


Fairytale of Old Coruscant

by couronnedesfleurs



Series: Christmas Tales [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Both literally and figuratively, Christmas, Christmas Special, Darth Vader's A+ parenting, Drama, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Giving Luke The Boyfriend He Deserved in Canon, Historical Inaccuracy, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, M/M, Magic, Make the Yuletide Gay, Prince Luke Skywalker, Queen Padmé Amidala, Skywalker Family Drama (Star Wars), Skywalker Family Feels (Star Wars), Suitless Darth Vader, how does one tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27903556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couronnedesfleurs/pseuds/couronnedesfleurs
Summary: It’s almost the 25th December in the medieval kingdom of Coruscant, and King Anakin is determined that his son will not make the same mistakes in matrimony as his daughter. Prince Luke and his secret knight boyfriend have other ideas.A Christmas story in three parts.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Luke Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker | Darth Vader & Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Padmé Amidala & Luke Skywalker
Series: Christmas Tales [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043271
Comments: 31
Kudos: 79
Collections: Christmas Stories and Prompts





	1. The Beginning: I Turned My Face Away And Dreamed About You

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE: To kick off Christmas, I am now taking writing prompts! You can leave them in the comments or inbox me on [Tumblr](https://couronnedesfleurs.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> I call this a medieval AU but it’s *technically* early Renaissance. Homophobia doesn’t exist in this verse, just as it shouldn’t exist irl, because that shit is seriously ugly. 
> 
> This is the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KUJP0OwjRE&ab_channel=BeedleTheBardcore) that inspired this whole car crash of a fic, you’re welcome. 
> 
> I can’t express how much fun I had writing this. I hope you enjoy. 💕
> 
> (If anyone spots the thing™, I will love you forever.)

_One._

‘You must be looking forward to the Christmas ball, your highness. Only days away now, and just think of all those gentle folk who are travelling from far and wide! Lords and Ladies, Princes and Princesses, even a _King-_ why, it is too much excitement to bear! Though it is a shame they aren’t visiting in summer, when the roses are in full bloom and the birds sing and the fruit trees blossom. We had a full harvest of pears this year, as well as oranges, such as we’d never seen before. The fates have been kind to us, and no mistake.’

She straightened up, dusting bits of thread from her skirt.

‘Well, if I don’t say so myself, you are going to look simply exquisite at the Christmas ball, your highness. You’ll have no end of suitors asking you to dance- it is too exciting to comprehend!’

Luke plastered a smile on his face at his young maid’s optimism.

‘Your work is excellent as always, Lisette. But what I am most looking forward to this Christmas is the peace and freedom we have acquired, unlike last year.’

The girl undertaking his clothes fitting nodded emphatically.

‘Wise like your parents, your highness. They must be so proud of your achievements; especially of what you have accomplished with your knights.’

His smile broadened into something real.

‘Technically speaking they’re not _my_ knights, I’ve just been fortunate enough to train alongside them. They are an exceptional group of men.’

‘Ah yes, forgive my error your highness. The leader of that order is Ezra Bridger, is it not? He has risen so far in such a short amount of time, and a very handsome man to behold too _-_ ’

She cut herself with a squeak as the other handmaidens in the room gasped, pink flushes rising high on everyone’s cheeks.

‘P-pardon me, your highness, that was inappropriate-’

‘No, no, don’t apologise. Er- yes. He is quite handsome.’

 **_Very_ ** _handsome._

Mercifully the fitting came to a close shortly afterwards and Luke escaped, leaving a congregation of giggly handmaidens behind and thanking his lucky stars that his love had not been within earshot. He hardly needed any more encouragement. Since his elevation to head knight, he had been receiving a lot more attention from the ladies of the castle.

‘ _Very_ handsome, hmm? Pray, continue. I could listen to your raptures all day.’

Without turning around, Luke sighed.

‘I should have known you’d be lurking here like a lout. Don’t you have anything better to do? Some swords to be polishing? Some stables to be mucking out?’

Familiar arms snaked around his waist, a smile ghosting at the crook of his neck.

‘I wasn’t _lurking,_ I heard your thoughts plain and clear as dawn. You need to shield better, my Prince. And as it happens, I do not, so I ventured this way in search of some company. I’m glad I did- I was not expecting to receive such unadulterated praise, nor to see my love looking so radiant this early in the morn-’

Yanking him unceremoniously into a dark alcove, Luke’s eyes darted left and right for any eavesdroppers.

‘Has your ego become so swollen that you’ve completely taken leave of your senses?’ he hissed. ‘May I remind you we are still in _public._ If anyone sees you here, they’re bound to get the wrong idea-’

‘More like the _right_ idea-’

‘You know what I mean!! And you knew exactly what discussions you’d be overhearing when you wandered in here; your head is as plump as a partridge from hearing all the maids compliments. Lisette is completely cow-eyed for you, though _stars_ only know why-’

Ezra clasped Luke’s hands in his, thumb stroking over his fingers and cutting him off mid-rant.

‘You wound me grievously, my love. Are you so immune to my charms? Yours is the only good opinion I desire, after all.’

He batted his eyelashes, and Luke snorted.

‘They only praise you because they have no idea what you are _really_ like behind all that armour and valour. The female populous would be truly disappointed to discover how their dashing knight Ezra Bridger sleeps with his mouth wide open and snores like a middle-aged dragon-’

‘That’s a scandalous falsehood and you know it! You’ve been spending far too much time in the company of your pernicious sister. And while we’re on that subject, far too much time with anyone who isn’t _me,_ I’ve barely seen you in weeks-’

‘Ezra, we’ve talked about this. You know how busy this time of year is for my family, not to mention that you came to my chambers only last night-!’

‘Point conceded, your highness. Yet, I was truly bereft to find my love had left me all alone in bed this morning, without so much as a goodbye kiss…’

Ezra pulled him closer, waggling his eyebrows.

‘Well then, let me remedy that.’

Winding his arms around Ezra’s neck, Luke kissed him square on the mouth.

‘There. Happy?’

The soft smile on Ezra’s face belied his smug words.

‘Very. Though, they’re usually of longer duration, so you’ll have to make up for it later.’

‘Consider me in your debt then, Knight Bridger. Now, _what_ are you doing in here? Not just scrounging for kisses, I hope.’

Ezra’s face sobered.

‘I need to talk to you before the Christmas ball. It’s- well, it’s important.’

Luke frowned slightly.

‘That might be difficult- I’ll be busy all day today and tomorrow with Christmas preparations-’

‘Tonight, then. It cannot wait. Expect me in your chambers at ten minutes past the twelfth hour. Your guards will be on patrol at the other end of the corridor, so we will be safe.’

Bringing one of Luke’s hands up to his mouth, Ezra kissed it with an incorrigible smirk.

‘Until then, my Prince.’

* * *

_Two._

Christmas would always mean a lot to Ezra, for reasons he could not reveal to anyone else. The previous year’s celebrations had led to a fortuitous series of events that saw Luke and Ezra sharing their first, albeit quite unplanned, kiss.

_They stumbled into a disused closet, giggling and fumbling at each other’s clothes._

_‘Shhhh’ Luke whispered ‘Someone will h-hear us-’_

_Ezra shook his head, voice getting progressively louder._

_‘I don’t care! You hear me? I. Don’t. Care. I’m just a knight, and you’re the prince, and the king can **kisseth my behind** -’ _

_‘Ezra!’ Luke hissed, scandalised, before promptly bursting into a new fit of giggles. Ezra gazed at him, a dopey smile spreading unguarded over his face. Stars, he was so in love with this man, and it wasn’t just a drunken fancy. If he was honest, he’d loved Luke since he first saw him- the little sun watching the stars in awe, while Ezra had watched him with equal captivation._

_His giggles subsiding, Luke leaned in closer. He could count every pale eyelash from this angle, and Ezra felt his heart do a funny flippy thing in his chest. Was that normal?_

_He noticed that Luke’s necklace had slipped down his throat, revealing the ring of bruises the Prince had tried so hard to hide. The familiar surge of fury raced through him at the sight. With the utmost care, he stroked softly over the fading marks._

_‘I’m sorry I got there too late. I couldn’t protect you from him-’_

_‘Shhh, do not trouble yourself. You did everything you could. You saved us all.’_

_Luke looked down at Ezra’s mouth, and his lashes brushed Ezra’s cheek. His heart continued flipping, except this time faster and faster until Ezra felt like he would explode._

_Probably not normal._

_‘I think I’m dying,’ he announced as if he was commenting on the weather. Stars, he had drunk faaaaar too much ale. Why were there two of Luke? Not that it was a bad thing, he would never be able to get enough of him, even with multiple heads he was still unfairly pretty-_

_‘Wait, WHAT?!’_

_Luke’s eyes bugged out of his head as he checked Ezra’s pulse, laying the back of his palm against his forehead to test for the dreaded signs of fever, and Ezra began to laugh._

_‘Heart goes flip flop. Like this.’ He brought his hand up to demonstrate, before grabbing Luke’s hand where it rested against his brow and pulling it to his mouth for a quick kiss._

_‘Did you do that on purpose to make me get closer to you?’ Luke accused, though he didn’t sound very angry about it. In fact, he was smiling, and Ezra wished he wouldn’t **do that** because it made him feel things a lot, especially right now when he was practically a walking brewery with questionable control over his gangly limbs- _

_Loud cheering and clapping drifted through the door, and the musicians immediately launched into the next song. It began slowly, tremulous strumming of harp strings, and Luke sighed contentedly._

_‘This is my favourite Christmas song,’ he explained softly. ‘I always wanted to have my first dance to this, under the mistletoe. But considering the state we’re in right now, I suppose a kiss will have to do.’_

_He cocked his head at Ezra, blue eyes shining, and Ezra felt his heart do that flippity floppity thing again. Ohh so he wasn’t really dying, it was just how Luke made him feel. Duly noted. Whenever he sobered up and found a clean roll of parchment and a quill that didn’t blot everywhere-_

_‘Well?’_

_Luke had one eyebrow raised expectantly._

_‘There’s…there’s no mistletoe.’_

_‘Are you going to let that hinder you? I thought you were a man of action, Knight Bridger.’_

_Luke’s eyes sparkled in the dark, and Ezra didn’t need any more encouragement. Threading his hands hungrily through Luke’s hair, he closed the millimetres between them and they kissed like it was the first and last time._

Waking up in a crumpled heap on his bed the next morning to the mocking sounds of mating turtle doves perched right outside his window and his friend sniggering at his misfortune had…not been fun.

‘Bloody kriffing hell,’ Ezra spat, trying to get the rancid taste of alcohol and bad decisions out of his mouth. ‘What happened last night?’

‘Don’t ask me,’ Sabine quipped ‘I only peeled your worthless behind off the banquet hall floor when you were too inebriated to stand.’

‘I feel like _death_.’

‘Yes...drinking five flagons of ale in one go will do that to a person.’

She threw Ezra’s clothes at his head unsympathetically.

‘Stir yourself. We have training, and we mustn’t keep the others waiting.’

Ah yes, that was right. War waited for no one, and their training could not stop due to Christmas festivities. Even the Prince would be expected to show up-

Wait.

_No._

The Prince.

Luke.

He hadn’t-

Images flashed before his eyes.

The Prince doing his best to raise everyone’s spirits despite the horror of the battle that preoccupied their minds.

Copious drinking all around, Luke toasting his men, with a special mention to Ezra for his outstanding bravery in the battle, to which Ezra had to accept that his cheeks would now be permanently stained red.

His swift call for music as a distraction, which everyone had enthusiastically agreed to. The King and Queen had long since retired, so it was with little reverence that the long dining tables were shoved to the side in favour of a dance space, and Ezra had strayed a little bit closer to Luke than he should have, and they’d ended up fumbling into a tiny cupboard, hands on each other, blue eyes and soft skin and golden hair and Ezra had- they had-

* * *

_Three._

Half-dressed and wild eyed, he’d almost shoved an indignant Sabine into the wall as he flew past, desperate to get to the Prince before anyone else could. He’d made quite a spectacle of himself. Washing lines were torn down, handmaidens and serving boys dodging out of his path as he dashed through the labyrinthine courtyards, sending indignant chickens and hens squawking as their morning feed was interrupted. It was no conduct for a knight- but at this point, he felt certain his career as a knight was over. 

He eventually found the Prince in the training arena polishing his sword, somehow fresh faced after the… _escapades_ of last night. 

How unfair was it that Luke should look so pristine and perfect when he’d drunk as much as Ezra- okay, maybe not _quite_ as much, but _almost-_

‘Luke- _shit_ \- I mean, your highness, I really need to speak with you-’

‘Ezra? You’re early- the rest of the men haven’t arrived yet…’

With growing concern, Luke took in the unbrushed hair and yesterday’s shirt- or maybe the day previous to that.

‘What’s the matter? Are you unwell?’

His eyes were so blue and kind and pretty and Ezra really needed to get a grip before he ended up repeating his drunken mistakes.

Tugging Luke along in a way that was heinously inappropriate for him to do to a member of the royal family, they took refuge in a dark corner of the kitchen courtyards. Tripping over his words, Ezra clumsily launched straight in.

‘I am so, _so_ sorry for what happened last night- I wasn’t myself- I drank far too much and forgot my place. It won’t be repeated. If you wish to dismiss me from the service of the knights, I will leave quietly with no fuss. I-’

‘Ezra, what on earth are you talking about? What did you do last night that was so awful?’

Luke’s brow was crinkled adorably in confusion, and for half a second, Ezra dared to hope. Had Luke forgotten? Had he been too drunk to remember? Or, even better, perhaps the whole thing was some figment of Ezra’s imagination, an embarrassing dream that would be awkward to explain to the Prince but they would both soon be able to forget about and move on with their lives, or in Ezra’s case, continue hopelessly pining-

‘ _Ah._ You mean the kiss.’

Luke’s eyes widened in understanding as Ezra fell back down to earth with a dull thud.

‘Yes. That. I’m so, _so_ sorry-’

‘Did you mean it?’

…

_Huh?_

‘I-I don’t think I quite understand the question, your highness…’

There was a small, shy smile on Luke’s face now, and Ezra was enamoured despite everything.

‘Did you mean it when you kissed me? Do you like me in that way?’

Any sensible man with a modicum of self-preservation would have denied this, but really, with Luke sat there smiling at him in the backdrop of the dawning sky, how could he say otherwise?

‘I-er- well, I mean, _yes,_ but- ‘

‘Then there’s no problem.’

He said it simply, as if the matter was now closed, and Ezra gaped like a goldfish.

‘No- no _problem??_ I’m a lowly knight, and you’re the _heir to the throne,_ and I _kissed you,_ I would say that most definitely _is a problem-!_ ’

‘But you kissed me because you meant it, no? And I kissed you because I meant it too. So far, we are equal. And you’re not lowly, you were elevated to head knight in less than a few _months_. That’s seriously impressive, Ezra.’

Ezra fought back the smile that threatened to blossom at the earnest compliment.

‘But- that’s not the poi-how can you say that so casually?? Your father will be _furious-_ ’

‘What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.’

‘It’ll hurt _me!!_ I was drunk, and you’re the prince- bloody hell you’re the PRINCE and I’m a dead man walking-’

Luke, incredibly, laughed.

‘Ezra, calm down! You’re worrying over nothing. He doesn’t know, and he won’t find out. Not if we’re careful. Okay? Besides,’ his eyes glimmered wickedly, ‘You weren’t so concerned last night. What happened to, what was it again, “ _the king can **kisseth my behind”**_?’

Ezra turned a vile shade of green.

‘I can’t believe I said that- he’ll have my _head_ -’

‘Not if I’ve got anything to say about it’ Luke said mildly. ‘I happen to like yours quite a lot.’

And with that, Luke kissed him again, and Ezra forgot why he’d been worried in the first place.

* * *

_Four._

Ezra had always known he was a peculiar child, but no one had ever been able to quite figure out why. It wasn’t until long after he’d lost his parents and run away from the village for good that he realised he had magic. Even then, he’d learned to conceal it. Having magic wasn’t a positive thing. You were either persecuted or manipulated by others for possessing magic, and he desired neither. He’d taught himself to shield his abilities and did odd jobs to get by. He wandered aimlessly from village to village, until the bitter weather had forced him to take shelter in the city of Coruscant. The fates had been kind to him that day, as he’d arrived at the very moment that the kingdom was accepting new recruits for knight training.

It had been a gruelling process right from the start- made ten times harder by his attempts to keep his magic secret. It was exhausting, both mentally and physically, and for a while he started to wonder if he’d made a mistake. But Coruscant was by far the most welcoming place he’d come across, and he soon grew close to some of his fellow knights-in-training. Magic was legal in this kingdom, seeing as the King was one of its most prolific users. His order was also overseen by the legendary knight and mage Obi-Wan Kenobi, who currently served as adviser to the King and Queen. The tutelage of this great man made him strive for more, and he was surprised to find he was skilled with a sword. Being a knight afforded many other benefits- regular pay, a roof over his head, and a marvellous view into the palace gardens. Luckily, he’d been allocated the bunk at the very end of the hall, which meant he could quietly slip out from under the covers once everyone else had fallen asleep, and watch the moon wax in a bed of velvet and crystalline stars.

There was, of course, another perk to having the garden view; it had enabled him to catch his first glimpse of the Prince.

Being merely a knight-in-training, he very rarely saw the royal family, except for public speeches and balls. He knew that the Queen was wise and kind, and that the King was immensely terrifying, though a good ruler. He knew the Princess had secretly married a commoner, much to the outrage of her father. Ezra had been able to hear many of the shouting matches even from his distant room.

That had been when he’d first arrived. It wasn’t long afterwards when things went back to relative normality; the blacksmith Han Solo had hastily been handed a title to cover up his origins, and was installed in a set of new rooms within the palace. Ezra suspected this had more to do with the Queen’s influence than the King’s merciful benevolence.

He’d seen them a few times in the gardens, usually in broad daylight, despite the gossiping servants that eyed them scandalously. The Princess was beautiful like her mother, and her dark eyes flashed wickedly as she play-wrestled her newlywed husband into a nearby bush, only to soon find herself on the receiving end of a similar manoeuvre. With their peals of laughter in the background, Ezra snorted at how un-regal ‘Sir Solo’ was; despite his fine, richly made clothes, he wore the smirk of a rogue, and doubtless would forever be one at heart. But, Ezra considered, he must have some redeeming qualities in order to have won the Princess’s hand in marriage. From what he’d heard, she was fiery and independent. If she loved him- and the King hadn’t yet found a viable excuse to have him beheaded- then he must be worthy.

It was in almost the exact same spot that he first saw the Prince, a few weeks later. At first, it was difficult to make out the short, cloaked figure. Ezra’s eyes were bleary from lack of sleep as he made his bi-weekly moon vigil. But as he stared, and the figure released his hood, he realised with growing certainty who he was looking at. The Prince was small and petite like his sister- nothing like the broad King Ezra had watched address the people of Coruscant so many times, though they had the same golden hair and bright blue eyes. They were fixed on the night sky with the same kind of reverence that Ezra’s usually held. In quiet- and, unbeknownst to one of them- companionship, they sat and watched the moon until the early hours when it graciously admitted defeat to the burst of the incoming sun’s rays. Two boys from completely opposite ends of the social hierarchy, brought together by the endless possibilities of the night.

Over the next few months, Ezra increased his nightly vigils, not admitting to himself that he was much more interested in spotting the golden-haired Prince than he was in any constellations.

It had therefore been a massive shock when Luke was presented to his order of trainee knights by Obi-Wan, golden crown exchanged for dull armour.

Ezra had never been able to get the entire story out of the Prince, but he’d heard whispers, and pieced it together for himself. Luke, in true Luke fashion, had been sneaking out of the castle without permission to help the poor folk in the next kingdom, uncaring of the many enemies who wished to see the fall of the royal house of Skywalker-Amidala. The King had been incensed that his only son was putting himself in harm’s way, and a blazing argument had ensued. The King couldn’t understand why Luke would risk his safety helping people who weren’t even from his own kingdom, while Luke couldn’t understand how his father could tolerate women and children needlessly suffering as a result of their own war.

The King, as always, had had the last word.

As punishment, he had ordered Luke to join the new knight recruits in their arduous training. 

_‘If you want to help others so badly, then this will be your assignation from now on. That way, you will be working on your skills instead of sneaking off to some stars-forsaken kingdom, and I can keep an eye on you. I really thought I could trust you more than this, my son.’_

Ezra recalled how he had inwardly winced, hearing those disappointed words float out from Luke’s consciousness. Of course, he had to keep a straight face. The Prince wasn’t shielding his thoughts because why would he need to? There was no one else here with magic who would be able to read them except Obi-Wan- or so he thought.

The Prince was nothing like any of them expected. Off the battlefield, he was kind, generous, and sweet. He attended to their horses, despite many of the knights thinking it was strange. It was obvious that the job was well below Luke’s station, and it was simply improper for a Prince to be breeches high in dirt, taking care of wild creatures. As Ezra was the youngest and newest of the recruits, it was him that was selected unanimously by the order to approach the Prince on the subject. While they did not personally care what the Prince chose to do, it would be their heads if the King found out his precious son was mucking out the stables like a commoner.

As it was the first time that Ezra had ever spoken directly to the Prince in private, he wished fervently that it had been under any other circumstance. He hovered awkwardly in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot. Would the Prince take their well-meaning concern for impertinence and complain to his father? If so, the blame would land squarely on Ezra, and possibly the executioner’s axe-

‘Knight Bridger? How can I be of assistance to you?’

‘Please, it’s just Ezra, your highness. I came to ask…’

Why you are seven inches deep in muck? Why you are insisting on doing this when we have several designated groomsmen? Why you still look good even though you’re covered in the aforementioned seven inches of muck?

‘…i-if you need any help with the horses.’

Luke seemed taken aback; then, slowly, he cracked a small smile.

‘I have everything under control here, Ezra. But I wouldn’t mind the company...if you’re not otherwise engaged, of course.’

If Ezra did have a multitude of other chores to be doing at that precise moment, he conveniently suffered a memory lapse, and eagerly picked up a brush.

Luke’s smile broadened.

‘This is my girl, Artoo. She’s temperamental, but fiercely intelligent, and you’ll never find a more loyal horse anywhere. Say hello to Ezra, Artoo.’

The white mare regarded Ezra with haughty dark eyes, and he gulped, reminded of the way the King looked in court whenever someone displeased him. However, Luke was waiting, so Ezra gingerly reached out a hand to stroke down the horse’s mane, silently willing her not to disembowel him.

Initially, she stiffened, and Ezra almost retracted. But he kept going, gently running his hand through the coarse hairs, careful to avoid the small blue jewels that Luke had previously woven into her strands.

‘She must like you, if she allowed you to do that. She’s still changeable around even my father sometimes- I think he intimidates her.’

If that was the case, Ezra related wholeheartedly, though the horse snorted loudly in disagreement.

‘She’s beautiful,’ he said carefully, keeping an eye out for kicking hooves and bucking heads. He needn’t have worried, for the horse seemed to have decided he was trustworthy and instead preened under the praise. She even allowed Ezra to bring the brush up to her snow-white strands.

‘Where is your horse, Ezra?’

Still getting used to the miracle that was the Prince having an actual conversation with him, Ezra took a few seconds to reply.

‘I-I haven’t yet been assigned a horse, your highness. I was told that recruits must wait for that privilege.’

Luke’s blue eyes narrowed, and for the barest of seconds, Ezra saw without a doubt that he was the King’s son.

‘That is unacceptable. You may still be a recruit, but you have proved a worthy one, and every worthy knight must have his own horse. Come, we will visit the horses that haven’t been designated yet, and you will choose your steed.’

He strode to the door, then turned back as an afterthought.

‘Also, please call me Luke.’

It became the unspoken rule after that that Ezra would help Luke tend to the horses, and the other knights soon grew used to this unusual arrangement. By some grace of the stars, the King had not found out, and the pair shared many meaningful conversations, sometimes going on late into the night while polishing the horse’s shoes and keeping them well groomed.

It had been almost instantaneous. Ezra was head over heels for the Prince already, and Luke quickly grew smitten with the handsome, mysterious knight who had appeared from nowhere only a few months prior. Unfortunately, this underlying attraction materialised into a deeply awkward tension whenever the two were together around others. The knights had picked up on it, and started to tease Ezra for his crush on the unattainable Prince.

And Ezra could not deny it. With each day that passed, he grew more and more attached to Luke. He had taken Ezra by surprise on that very first day, and continued to do so. Having heard tales from the others of being under King Anakin’s command and seeing first-hand his unearthly aggression in battle, he’d assumed his son would be just like him. The man was a behemoth, a viciously wild and strangely beautiful sight to behold as he effortlessly massacred their enemies in a whirl of fury.

Therefore, seeing the Prince’s small stature, many of the knights made the mistake of underestimating him. Something they later regretted after the Prince stood over them victoriously with his sword aloft, hardly breaking a sweat.

The message was clear. He might look like an angel compared to his father, but he was no delicate wallflower. What he lacked in size and muscle, he made up for with grace and stamina.

Soon enough, the men no longer respected him simply because he was the Prince. They respected him because he was Luke. 

A few days before the battle that would change their lives, they had been given a rare day off by Obi-Wan. The Prince was still inspecting the training grounds, but the snowfall had been heavy, and he feared by the time the training grounds were cleared, it would be nightfall.

Able to let loose for the first time in some months, it didn’t take long for the inevitable snowball fight to break out between the knights.

Despite knowing it was childish, Ezra couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun. It had been a long, cold winter, and there was little in the way of light relief to be found. Ducking behind a statue, he peered out, having already moulded several balls in advance and stockpiled them next to him. One remained poised and ready in his hand.

That was when Luke rounded the corner, completely unaware of what he was walking into. He was bundled up in a thick furry coat that seemed about three sizes too big for him, looking slightly miserable, and Ezra’s heart clenched. He deserved to have some fun too, royal duties be damned. 

‘Over here, your highness!’

He waved enthusiastically to signal his hiding place, forgetting he was still holding the snowball, which proceeded to hit Luke squarely in the face.

There was a stunned silence.

‘I-I’m so sorry, your highness-’ Ezra spluttered, horrified, as several knight’s heads popped out from their various hiding places in the garden to get a good view of the theatre unfolding before them.

Luke was still for a second, blinking snow out of his eyes. Then he grinned, so brightly that Ezra was surprised the snow didn’t melt.

‘You’d better watch your back, Knight Bridger.’

With an astonishingly quick use of magic, Luke hurled several of the balls from Ezra’s own pile at him, before running for the cover of the bushes.

Knowing that the Prince was fair game, the fight started in earnest, and went on for a few hours until the knights eventually collapsed in the snow from exhaustion and laughter. Luke showed Ezra how to make a snow angel, but Ezra thought this was fairly superfluous in Luke’s case. There were bits of snow still stuck in his eyelashes, and Ezra knew he was done for.

The fact that Ezra had wholeheartedly lobbed a snowball at the crown prince and lived to tell the tale finally won him the respect of the older men, and the next day, they fully initiated him as a knight. They were now not just his co-workers; they were his family.

This respect had increased tenfold at the most gruesome battle of the war, only a few days later.

With the King and Queen away on business, it was Obi-Wan who had handled the call for arms as their enemies were spotted encroaching the Coruscant borders at one of their key siege points. He had naturally travelled ahead with his best men, leaving Luke and the newly initiated knights to follow a few days behind as backup. Ordinarily they would never have been called into service- they’d only been training for a few months after all- but they needed every man they could get. Mother nature took nobody’s side in war, and the early December snow hindered both armies, stuck in knee-high drifts and flurries of snowflakes. In any other situation the setting would have been idyllic for the time of year, but it seemed macabre in the context of the mass slaughter which occured.

They’d had to abandon their horses, the snow too deep for even their powerful hooves, and Ezra saw how it had broken Luke’s heart to do so. He vowed when this was all over- one way or another- he would recover the animals Luke loved so much.

But there was no time to worry about that now. Not only had they been taken by surprise by the fortified troops, their number so much greater than the Coruscant knights; they were being led by the man at the very heart of the conflict which had led to this bloody war in the first place. Four ravens circling above, calling out their battle cry, had given it away. Though he’d never met the man, Luke knew who they belonged to.

Count Dooku was here, and Obi-Wan and his men were following a false lead.

The whole thing was a trap.

Dooku was a fallen knight, once respected and admired, who had succumbed to the lure of dark magic. He had deserted all his training and ideals to become the most feared sorcerer in all the land, and the King’s sworn enemy. Particularly frightening was his supposed immortality- when Anakin was a young man, he himself had fought the old mage. He had not aged in the intervening years. It was unnatural, and his leathery papery skin and dead eyes made Luke’s skin crawl.

‘So, we meet at last, your highness. Your father has tried valiantly to keep you from battle, but as predicted, he has failed. You greatly resemble him.’

Their swords clashed, the sound ringing in the eerily deserted common, empty except for a few barren trees and the mountains that surrounded the land from every direction.

‘How dare you talk about my father,’ Luke ground out through gritted teeth. ‘You were supposed to be a mentor to him, to Obi-Wan. You betrayed them for power, and look where it got you-’

‘Ah, the naivety of youth. I wouldn’t expect you to understand the lure of the dark side, boy. Not the way your father once did.’

Luke’s eyes narrowed in anger, striking again, this time more carelessly. It was true that his father had once wavered in his ideals, but he had been brought back to the light by his mother and Obi-Wan, and his own convictions. Luke would not let this sack of old bones slander his father, and he said so.

‘Such an impudent tongue, Prince. My master will certainly not tolerate your childish insults once I deliver you to him.’

‘I’m not going anywhere with you, and I won’t be your pawn. I serve my kingdom, but more importantly, my parents.’

He was stalling for time. Dooku’s forces had already wiped out many of his men, their prone bodies lying scattered around the clearing a testament to his ruthlessness. But Dooku had even more men on the way. Obi-Wan must have learnt of the false ruse by now and would be turning back in this direction with his own order. Unless Luke alerted them, they too would be massacred.

‘Such loyalty! An admirable trait. But tell me, my Prince. While you are busy protecting your father and your men- _’_

Luke found himself immobilised, his sword plucked out of his hand and tossed into the snowbank.

Dooku dragged Luke up by the scruff of his chainmail, holding him up effortlessly.

‘Who will protect _you?’_

His magic was far older and stronger than Luke’s, suppressing his attempts to free himself.

‘My master wishes you to join him. He believes he can make a sorcerer’s apprentice out of you, but I disagree. You have none of your father’s anger.’

His eyes glowed an eerie yellow, and Luke gasped despite himself. It was one thing to hear of the dark side, how it warped and decayed a human until there was nothing left. It was another to see it in person, the ochre an ugly paint splash in the blizzard of white. Dooku’s other hand began to tighten around his throat, cruel smile growing as Luke bucked desperately to get away.

‘It is useless to resist, Prince. My master always gets what he wants. As for Kenobi and his men, I have a little surprise for them.’

Luke’s eyes grew wide in horror as he watched Dooku’s men march towards them from the horizon. It was impossible to have that many troops, and there was something scarily vacant about their expressions, as if they weren’t even human at all.

Ezra, feeling Luke’s distress like a tangible pain in his chest, staggered onto the scene bloody and exhausted from his own battle against the dreaded dark knight Ventress. He’d sent her running, and immediately sprinted to where he could feel Luke’s magic ebbing. Something was horribly, _horribly wrong-_

‘LUKE!!!!!’

He yelled before he could think properly, giving himself away.

Dooku’s head whipped around, Luke still clutched tight in his grasp. His eyes fixed on Ezra, and a malevolent smile creeped over his skeletal features.

‘Well well well, look what we have here. A lost knight. And not only that, he calls you by your Christian name! How…intimate.’

Ezra’s insides churned at Dooku’s leer, how he had stupidly betrayed their close relationship to the last person he wanted to ever find out, how he held something so precious so carelessly in his wizened hands.

If he had risen to Dooku’s taunts and waited even a second longer, he would have been too late. But gathering every ounce of magic from the extremities of his body, Ezra hurled it at Dooku, keeping the sorcerer’s face and all the evil he stood for clearly in his mind as the intended target of the attack to avoid hurting Luke.

He had suppressed his magic for so long, only using it for menial tasks he was too lazy to do by hand, that he had no idea if it would actually work.

He was far, far more powerful than he’d anticipated.

With a deafening boom, an avalanche of snow cascaded from the mountains above, quickly engulfing the enemy. At the same time, Dooku lurched into the air, forced to let go of Luke as his fingers clutched at his own throat. He rose for twenty, thirty, fifty metres, until suddenly he plummeted back to earth with frightening velocity, hitting a tree on the way down for good measure. He crumpled to the ground with a sickening crack and lay still.

There was some part of Ezra that was horrified at what he’d just done, but then he looked at Luke, gasping for breath and massaging his own poor neck. He knew he’d do it all over again.

Later, when they were safe back in the palace, Ezra remained unmoved by Luke’s pleading.

‘I can’t take credit for what you did. You saved me, and Obi-Wan, and all the surviving men. It is _your_ victory, Ezra!’

‘I don’t want the King to know about my magic. He will be suspicious as to why I didn’t admit to it earlier- I will be turned away. The knights are my life now.’

_You are my life now._

Luke’s eyes went round, and Ezra realised he’d forgotten that Luke could now hear his thoughts as he had stopped suppressing his magic around him. Had it been acceptable for him to bury his burning cheeks in the snow then and there to avoid Luke seeing them, he would have done so in a heartbeat.

While Luke had taken most of his father’s praise at Ezra’s request, he had also publicly named Ezra as the knight who had aided him in his defeat of Dooku. Ezra was subsequently made head knight of the order- one of many dreams he never thought he’d ever see fulfilled.

His father had showered Luke with compliments, commending his quick thinking that had saved Obi-Wan and their remaining men. Luke could not tell him that it had not been _his_ magic that had saved his own life and so many of his men’s; it had been Ezra’s. The truth gnawed at Luke, and he was unable to take any pleasure from the celebrations thrown in his honour- until later on in the evening, when he had scrambled into a cupboard with the man who preoccupied his thoughts.

Luke had not only been put in the most extreme danger he’d ever faced, but he had fallen deeply in love with a lowly knight.

The King’s punishment had spectacularly backfired, and Ezra never thought he would be so grateful to the imposing man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment with your thoughts! 
> 
> Let me know if you have any writing prompts, and thank you for reading 🥰
> 
> Come chat to me on [Tumblr](https://couronnedesfleurs.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fleurscouronne) where I also post writing updates.


	2. The Middle: And The Bells Were Ringing Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In true Skywalker fashion, things must get a lot worse before they get better. Also, Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAYDEN IS BACK HAYDEN IS BACK HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT I WILL NEVER STOP SCREAMING ABOUT THIS EVER 
> 
> Fr I don't think I actually slept last night because I was so excited, so if there are mistakes in this, I'm looking at you Mr. Christensen. 
> 
> Important note: To kick off Christmas, I am now taking writing prompts, festive or otherwise! You can leave them in the comments or inbox me on [Tumblr](https://couronnedesfleurs.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Here's chapter 2 with our fave medieval disaster gays. Enjoy 💕
> 
> (If anyone spots the thing™, I will love you forever.)

_Five._

‘His royal highness Prince Luke, your majesty.’

Anakin dismissed Piett with a nod, and Luke did not stand on ceremony as he rushed into the King’s private chambers.

‘Father!’ he exclaimed, enveloping the man in a fierce hug. ‘You didn’t tell me you’d be back from the foreign lands so early! Once your herald informed me, I came straight here without delay.’

The King laughed softly, a sound reserved only for the three most precious people in his life. 

‘I wanted to surprise you all.’

He stroked his hand through Luke’s hair.

‘You have grown so much again.’

Luke rolled his eyes.

‘You don’t have to placate me father, I know I’ll never reach your height.’

‘Maybe not,’ his father teased, ‘But you will outmatch me in every other area before too long. I have been informed of how hard you have been working with your knights. I am very proud of you, my son.’

Luke tried hard not to blush, averting his gaze. He was a wonderful father for the most part, but certainly never gave praise where it was undeserved, and Luke never knew how to welcome it when it came.

‘We must tell mother and Leia you have returned-’

‘They already know, Luke. I asked for a private audience with you first. And you need not look so concerned, you’re not in any trouble. On the contrary; I have good news.’

Luke’s stomach sank as he looked back at his father. Though he loved him very much, they did not often share the same opinion of what could be considered ‘good news’.

‘You already know that although the war wages on in other lands, Coruscant has recovered well from the aftereffects. This is mostly thanks to your defeat of Dooku last winter. Therefore, I think it’s time you started to think seriously about settling down. You don’t want to be far outdone by your sister, do you?’

That was it. The moment when Luke should have swallowed his pride, prayed for the fates to be kind, and come clean to his father.

He said nothing.

‘The Christmas ball is in two days. It is an ideal opportunity for you to meet suitors, and you’re aware that I have already invited the most eligible from our alliance lands. If you form an attachment to one of them, it would give me great peace of mind about the future security of the kingdom, and of course your own. You do not, of course, have any prior attachments, so I see no issue. In other words, I would like you to choose a suitable match from among them. I know several who will already be lining up with gold rings.’

His father looked extremely pleased with himself, while Luke wanted to curl up in a ball somewhere and cry. He’d known, of course, that his father had invited these nobles with Luke firmly in mind- subtlety was not Anakin’s strong point.

But to blatantly demand that he choose a suitor in two days’ time?

He took a few calm, steadying breaths before turning back to the King.

‘I truly appreciate the trouble you have gone to on my behalf, father, and I thank you for your concern. But I would have much preferred to choose my own spouse, when I feel the time is right for me. I’m pleased for Leia, but her path is not mine.’

He’d tried to be rational like his mother, speaking respectfully and firmly as she would. His father, however, seemed impatient.

‘Do you not see the opportunity that lies before you? You could bring stability to this kingdom for years to come, and choose someone to rule by your side who is worthy of you.’

‘But I won’t be ruling for some time yet, father. Besides, I am still much too busy with my knights to think of settling down-’

‘Don’t be insolent. You know I only ordered you to train with the knights to keep you from sneaking out of Coruscant. It is not where you belong, and it was never meant to be long-term-’

‘But you’ve just said how proud you are of me!’

Anakin seemed to realise Luke was upset, and not purposefully trying to be difficult. His eyes softened.

‘And I meant it. You are strong and wise, Luke, and I am extremely proud of you. You are _so_ like your mother, always willing to help people. But you are also a _Prince,_ the _Crown Prince,_ and have far more important things to be doing than gallivanting around with trainee knights-’

‘They are no longer trainees. They proved that at the battle of Coruscant,’ Luke said coldly, crossing his arms. He would not let his father disrespect his men after what they had been through.

His father looked taken aback by Luke’s hostile stance. He only had himself to blame, he supposed; Luke’s Skywalker stubbornness came straight from the original source.

‘You are too attached to these men, who are far beneath your station. I can see I made a mistake to place you under their care. From now on, consider your duties with them dissolved. You will focus on helping your mother and sister with the preparations for the ball.’

Luke’s lip trembled.

‘You just want to keep me trapped in this castle forever, don’t you? It doesn’t matter how hard I try to prove myself. You will never believe me capable.’

There was a pregnant pause.

‘If I do wish to keep you here, it’s merely out of concern for your safety, my son- something you continuously disregard. Dooku nearly took you. I don’t even know what I or your mother would have done had he succeeded.’

His father ran his hands through his hair in frustration. The golden strands were beginning to go slightly grey at the temples, and Luke wondered how much of that was due to him.

‘I had to give up being a knight when I married your mother. I was not ignorant of the responsibility I now held. I was not born into this world, so I had to learn what my duties were. But you and Leia-’

‘I _know_ , father, I know. The prophecy. Leia and I must rule, otherwise the kingdom will fall-’

‘I’m not just talking about that. You are precious to me, you and your sister. I cannot lose you, Luke. I refuse to.’

For a moment, Luke saw the vulnerability in his father’s eyes, like a rare phoenix in the wild.

‘Why do you wilfully disobey me? Why do you delight in ignoring the rules that I’ve set out for your wellbeing? Do you not realise I would do _anything_ to keep you safe?’

 _But_ , Luke thought sadly, _safe doesn’t mean happy._

‘I don’t do it to spite you, father,’ he said softly. ‘On the contrary. I hate arguing with you.’

‘Then why do you oppose this so strongly _,_ when it is in your best interest? Please help me _understand,_ Luke. Tell me what is wrong.’

Anakin placed his broad hands on his son’s slim shoulders, tilting his chin up to face him.

But Luke could not.

Ezra was right. It was a fool’s mission to get his obstinate father to listen.

He gently removed himself from his father’s grip, missing the way the King’s face fell.

‘Excuse me, your majesty.’

Desperately trying to school his features into anything other than sheer heartbreak, Luke bowed stiffly and left without being dismissed.

* * *

_Six._

It was half past the twelfth hour, and Ezra had not appeared.

Resisting the urge to pace in front of the fire, Luke’s mind did it for him. He tormented himself with images of Ezra getting caught by the guards and hauled in front of his father for trespassing in the Prince’s private quarters so late at night. They were interspersed with replays of his father’s marriage ultimatum.

He was well and truly stuck.

Matters had not been made clearer by his visit to Ahsoka. She had once been his father’s apprentice, and was as skilled a swordsman and rider as he had ever known. But her true passion lay in the more sophisticated arts of magic. She served as the court oracle and astronomer, and Luke had already accepted that she’d known about their affair long before Ezra had even stepped foot into Luke’s life.

The list of people who knew was steadily growing. Leia, Han, Ahsoka, as well as Obi-Wan (if his knowing looks at them only last week had been anything to go by). Despite how careful they’d been, it was only a matter of time before his mother and father found out. Luke couldn’t bear to see the disappointment on their faces, but he couldn’t bear to lose Ezra either.

‘There is a grave decision plaguing you,’ she’d said as soon as he stepped through the doorway. In this setting, she was not his loving Auntie Soka- she was Mistress Tano, Court Oracle.

‘Hello to you too, Ahsoka.’

She ushered him beside the fireplace, gathering her hand-painted cards. Luke still found them as fascinating as he had when he was young. Only those truly attuned to not only their own magic, but the earth around them, could ever hope to have as much divination skill as Ahsoka.

With a flourish, she shuffled the cards and held them out to him.

‘Pick three.’

She surveyed his selected cards with a raised eyebrow, leaving him feeling like he’d failed a test he didn’t realise he’d taken.

‘All from the Major Arcana. You are indeed in a crisis, young one. A crisis of the heart. You have The Lovers- I don’t think we need to delve too deeply into that one-’

She tossed away the card depicting two geese flying away to freedom together.

‘-But you also have The Tower. You feel trapped, though there is the potential for liberation, for something better.’

She handed the card back to him. The dark-haired man climbing Rapunzel’s tower looked painfully familiar.

‘Now, this is _most_ curious. You also have The Sun, yet it was drawn upside down. This clouds the meaning.’

A smiling sun beamed down on a brimming nest of golden eggs, and Luke was none the wiser.

‘What is my fate?’

She looked from him, to the card, then back to him.

‘Riches that are not monetary. Happiness that cannot be valued. A family united rather than divided. These are things you could have, if you choose wisely. A certainty, the future is not. I am not all seeing. What I can tell you is that you have a big decision to make.’

She settled back into her chair, and Luke relaxed slightly as Ahsoka’s eyes lost their sheen that appeared whenever she did readings. There was something otherworldly about her in those moments, and it unsettled him slightly.

‘How will these cards help me make that decision?’ he said somewhat desperately.

‘The cards can only offer you guidance, Luke, as can I. The choice must be your own. But, seeing as it is you…’

Luke leant forward, breathless, so as not to miss a word.

‘…Don’t trust the man who says what he is, and trust the man who says what he is not.’

He’d left feeling even more confused than he had been to begin with.

A loud grunt from his balcony snapped him out of his thoughts, and Luke hurried out of the glass doors, one hand on his sword sheath.

Ezra was sprawled ungainly over the balustrades, one leg hooked over and keeping him clinging on for dear life.

‘A little help would be appreciated, my love,’ he called breezily.

Luke tugged him over, his lips thinning in an attempt not to laugh.

‘Is…is there any point whatsoever in asking what exactly you were trying to achieve?’ he spluttered, failing in his task. Ezra glared.

‘I was being romantic. Climbing up to a balcony, in the freezing cold no less, risking life and limb to reach my forbidden love? There can be no worthier pursuit.’

‘If I were you, I’d patent that idea, before some ambitious bard or other steals it,’ Luke said slyly.

He did however give the knight a quick peck on the cheek, which mollified him enough that he shook off his hurt pride, and proceeded to make himself at home in Luke’s chambers.

‘Before you start, I also have something to tell you. Something important,’ Luke said, and the worry must have shown on his face. Ezra, currently sprawled over his bedsheets, leaned forwards to squeeze his hands.

‘Then let’s say it at the same time to lessen our burden.’

They each took a huge breath.

‘-I want to tell my parents about our relationship-’

‘-Elope with me!’

They gaped at each other. Never mind being on the same page; they were reading entirely different manuscripts.

‘E-elope-?’

‘Yes. Elope with me. Leave all this behind. We can be together with no more fear, no more deceit. Just like you always wanted!’

Ezra’s eyes shone earnestly.

‘How-’

Luke opened his mouth, blinked, and closed it again. This went on for a few moments.

‘How can you ask this of me?’

Ezra’s face fell.

‘Is it such a terrible idea?’

‘I…I can’t believe you have given this the slightest consideration! We would both be ruined, as would our happiness.’

Ezra sat up, his brow furrowed.

‘Why is this prospect so abhorrent to you? Are you not the one who is constantly tying yourself into gordian knots in order to avoid us being discovered by your family? This would solve all our problems-’

‘It doesn’t solve anything! It would create a mess too terrible to ever extricate ourselves from. My feelings absolutely forbid it.’

‘Then…you no longer love me?’

Luke rounded on him, eyes brimming with outrage and hurt.

‘Of course I do, Ezra! How could you even question that! That’s not the issue-’

‘Then _why??_ I don’t understand! I’m doing this for you!’

Ezra looked so confused, like the puppy he’d saved from the snowbank the previous year, an action which had further cemented his place in Luke’s heart. But with an unpleasant twinge, he realised the words reminded him of his father.

_‘Then why do you oppose this so strongly, when it is in your best interest? Please help me **understand** , Luke.’_

Why was everyone so sure they knew what was best for Luke, without consulting him first?

‘If we elope, it will be a scandal. We will be pariahs for everyone to mock and deride. I don’t want that for us-’

‘But that’s the beauty, my love. We won’t _be_ here to see it; we’ll be somewhere far away, where their opinions do not matter anymore-’

‘It will always matter, Ezra! I’m the Prince, and this is _my_ Kingdom. I care about my people, and their opinions hold value to me. And the knighthood is your life! You can’t give that up for me. You’d grow to despise me for it, and I couldn’t bear it-’

‘I could _never_ despise you, Luke-’

‘Not to mention how much I’d be hurting my family if I left them! I would break their hearts-’

‘So you will shield their hearts, but mine be damned?’ Ezra said bitterly, and Luke shot him a sharp look.

‘That’s unworthy of you, Ezra. You know I love you, that is non-negotiable, but so is my love for my family. I will not lose one of you to the other, nor will I make a dishonest man out of you. My heart couldn’t take it.’

Ezra was pacing furiously now, his heavy boots pounding the polished wood floor. In the back of his mind, Luke worried about someone hearing them below.

‘Your very own sister eloped, yet you don’t label her a pariah or a whore. Why would you deem us so?’

‘Her case was different. Father would not consent to the marriage even after she went to him for his blessing, so she took matters into her own hands. He never dreamed she would go through with it without his approval; he underestimated just how headstrong Leia can be.’

Ezra grimaced in a moment of rare solidarity with the King.

‘A fool’s mistake.’

‘Which is why I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He should have learnt from the error of his ways with Leia, and I hoped he would be more lenient towards us once I tell him everything. I _need_ them to know, Ezra. I want to be with you, but please understand. I can’t do what you ask of me. Not in the way you want me to.’

Ezra leant over the mantlepiece, his back to Luke. His aura was spiky, dark, defensive. Luke knew he was hurt by his rejection, but he had to understand it wasn’t rejection. It was self-preservation for the both of them.

Luke approached tentatively, like he did with Artoo when she was in one of her moods.

‘Please can we not part like this, over a petty argument? I will not sleep knowing you are angry at me,’ he said softly, curling his fingers into the dark hair at Ezra’s nape.

Ezra sighed, releasing all his frustration and enfolding Luke into the grooves of his chest that were made for him.

‘I’m not angry at you. I could never be angry at you. You’re right, it was a foolish idea.’

For a few precious moments they stood silently, bathed in the amber roar of the fire, listening to the rapid beating of twin hearts.

‘I only suggested it because I’m tired of secrecy, of having to pretend that you are merely my sovereign’s heir instead of my entire world.’

‘As am I, which is why I want to admit the truth to my parents.’

Ezra drew back, looking him dead in the eyes.

‘As much as those are worthy sentiments, my love, we both know it is an impossible dream. I much prefer my neck attached to my shoulders.’

* * *

_Seven._

‘You’re laughing at me!’

‘I’m sorry, I’m not, I swear!’ Leia said, desperately biting her lip.

After seeing his face in the great hall at breakfast, she had known instantly that something was very wrong with her brother. There was an air of stilted awkwardness between her newly returned father and Luke; usually they would be talking each other’s ear off about riding or sparring, but Luke seemed determined to act like the monarch wasn’t there. Her mother had also noticed, and they exchanged a hopeless look over the heads of the two stubborn Skywalker men. To make matters worse, the hall was a hive of activity that Christmas Eve morning. The servants were busy making last minute touches to the decorations and cleaning every last inch of the stone walls and floor while they gossiped about all the esteemed guests who were arriving that afternoon. With every passing second, the colour drained more and more from Luke’s face until finally, unable to stand it any longer, she had frogmarched him out to the gardens where they could talk privately. The fact he’d put up no resistance only confirmed her fears.

‘I know it probably sounds foolish to you; you were never scared when you ran off to marry Han. But _I’m_ scared, Leia. I’m terrified of losing everything.’

She put her arm around his shoulders, letting him bury his face in her neck like they’d done as children.

‘I’m sorry, brother mine. I made matters worse by marrying my buffoon of a husband; father is most likely coming down harder on you because of my defiance.’

Luke sighed.

‘I don’t think it makes much difference. He was always going to be harder on me than you. He thinks I’m too soft, that I have too much of mother in me.’

She bristled.

‘And? What does it matter if that is true? Mother is the very best of women, and you are the very best of men, Luke. You are not the kind of person that would be foolish enough to lose what you love. I know you will keep fighting for it, however hard it gets.’

She hugged him tighter against her chest.

‘You’re forgetting that she is a key part in all of this, you know. Mother would be supportive of you, and she’s the only person who can get through to father when he’s in one of his tempers. Besides, I’m fairly sure she at least suspects _something_. Did she not gift us both those necklaces only a few years ago to give to your beloved when you found them? And did she not recently bring it up over breakfast whether you had any recipients in mind for it? I was sure father was going to have a choking fit.’

Luke blushed.

‘Yes, but I don’t think a knight is what she had in mind.’

Leia smiled wryly, pulling him back against her side.

‘Yes, well a blacksmith is probably not exactly what she envisioned either.’

They sat like that for a while, silently content to be in each other’s presence in the way that only close siblings can. In the distance, Luke could see the swans gliding elegantly through the freezing water as they had done when his mother was a little girl. In the wars that had taken place before his parents were married, all but a handful had been killed off. Now they thrived, resiliently beautiful as they toured the lakes in their bevies. They were the reason Padmé had chosen a swan as her emblem when she’d married Anakin. Now, the crests of Skywalker-Amidala proudly festooned the great hall, the swan and the hawk entwined for eternity.

Luke vaguely wondered what his and Ezra’s crest would look like- if they ever lived that long. The Skywalker-Bridger crest would have to include horses of some kind, seeing how much they both adored the animals. Though Ezra was very fond of cats…

‘And you’re wrong. About me not being scared, I mean. I half thought father would disown me when he found out.’

Luke goggled at his sister who had broken their silence.

‘How could you ever think that?! Father worships the ground you stand on, as does mother. He will always forgive you, no matter what you do. I wish I could say the same.’

She shook her head.

‘Whatever he says, and despite his many, _many_ faults, he loves us. Too much to cast us away. I’m not saying it will be easy- there are still moments when I’m concerned for Han’s wellbeing, though he doesn’t help himself much in that regard- but we made it through. Just like you and Ezra will. Whatever happens, Han and I are here for you, and all of Ezra’s gravity defying stunts.’

Her eyes sparkled wickedly.

‘H-how did you know-?’

‘I was informed by a reliable source. And by that, I mean my husband happened to be looking out of the window at the exact moment your graceful knight was clambering up the west wall of the tower, swearing like a sailor.’

Luke buried his face in his hands.

‘Don’t be embarrassed. I think he was secretly moved by the romance of it all. You know he’s always been very vocal in supporting you both. Maybe _too_ vocal.’

‘That’s a good point. Why _is_ Han so supportive of Ezra and I getting married anyway?’

‘He says it’s because you’re a ‘good kid’, but,’ she lowered her voice as if she was about to impart a great secret, ‘I think it’s just because he’s looking forward to not being father’s least favourite person in the family.’ 

…………………….

Simultaneously in the great hall, Ezra was having his own swansong.

‘I am relying on all of you to keep my children safe at the Christmas ball tomorrow.’

The King was pacing slowly in front of the many orders of knights, having surprised them all with an impromptu mandatory council. Ezra knew he was not the only knight in his squadron who found the King immensely intimidating, but they all stood to attention before the prowling monarch as he stopped in front of their order.

‘For reasons unknown to myself, my son trusts you with his life. So, you will prove your allegiance by providing reinforced security. No man will be able to take leave from his duties tomorrow, whatever the excuse. Nothing is to stop the celebrations going ahead as planned.’

He stopped suddenly and looked up, his dark blue eyes slanted dangerously. How he could resemble Luke so closely yet strike such fear into his heart, Ezra would never understand.

‘Which of you is Knight Bridger?’

Every head turned to face him as if he was headed to the executioner’s block. He stepped forwards on slightly shaking legs, keeping his head held high.

‘I am, your majesty.’

The King surveyed him, an unreadable look on his handsome face.

‘You are head knight of this order, as appointed by my son. He spoke of your gallantry and bravery at the battle of Coruscant last winter. Is this correct?’

‘Yes, your majesty.’

‘In that case, the responsibility rests especially heavily on your shoulders. I am trusting you with confidential information, and I expect it not to leave these walls.’

Ezra and the knights bowed as deeply as they could, and the King stepped closer.

‘Many suitors are travelling from far and wide to meet the Prince, and I have requested that he choose a suitable partner from among them. Therefore, you must be ever vigilant and attentive. You and your men will keep my son safe, Bridger. I don’t believe I have to remind you of the consequences should any of you fail.’

With that, the King stormed off with a sweep of his cloak, the huge mahogany doors banging behind him.

Ezra would never regret loving Luke, but sometimes, he did curse the fact that his beloved was related to _that._

Nevertheless, the King’s words had strengthened his resolutions. Luke hadn’t told him about his father’s plan- not that Ezra had given him much of a chance to last night- but at the icy feeling that cascaded through his veins and threatened to drown him, he excused himself quickly. With the singlemindedness he was famous for, he made his way to Obi-Wan’s chambers. After that, Han would be due a visit.

He had made his decision.

* * *

_Eight._

Anakin sighed, stroking his hand down his stallion’s mane in his private stables.

It had been a hellish day. Christmas Eve or not, Luke was refusing to talk to him, and where one of the twins led, the other unfailingly followed. Padmé seemed confused at their children’s silence, but she had been shooting Anakin suspicious looks all day around the many meetings and engagements they’d both been required to attend, with an unspoken promise of later words.

So here he was, hiding in the stables with his horse like a berated youngling.

He’d hand reared him from a small colt. Threepio was a beautiful creature to behold, gleaming hues of bronze and gold marking him as a rare breed. He was a skittish thing, and rather fussy.

‘ _Just like you!’_ Padmé had laughed when they’d first met. He smiled at the memory.

When he’d laid eyes on the Princess of Naboo, he’d been immediately spellbound. Nothing much had changed.

_‘Excuse me, Miss,’ he’d said, going to take the reigns from the strange girl tending to Threepio, ‘this is my steed, and he can be a bit…unpredictable. He’ll only take kindly to me.’_

_She carried on brushing Threepio’s mane, raising an elegant eyebrow. Anakin tried hard to remain respectful and not to admire her face too openly, made all the more stunning in the dim stable light._

_‘He seems perfectly fine in my presence. Maybe **you’re** the one who is unpredictable, Knight Skywalker.’_

_It was his turn to raise an eyebrow._

_‘You’ve heard of me, then.’_

_‘Oh yes, your reputation precedes you. Tell me, is it three dragons you’ve slayed now, or four?’_

_‘Six,’ he said smoothly, ‘Not counting the one in Kamino. I have to give some of that credit to my master, Obi-Wan.’_

_‘How noble of you.’_

_She was definitely laughing at him, but somehow, he didn’t care._

_‘So indulge me, Knight Skywalker-’_

_‘Call me Anakin.’_

_‘You are very bold to ask a lady to call you by name at your first acquaintance.’_

_‘And you are very bold to be grooming a strange man’s horse without permission, yet here we are.’_

_She shrugged._

_‘Then it seems we are at an impasse.’_

_‘On the contrary, I will indulge you with whatever you wish to know, my lady.’_

_She reached around him for the feeding trough, which he immediately tried to lift for her._

_‘Allow me-’_

_‘Very chivalrous of you, Anakin, as is wont of your profession. But you needn’t trouble yourself. I am not as weak as you imagine.’_

_He snorted._

_‘Believe me, I’ve only known you for five seconds, and I would not label you as weak. I pity any man that would do so.’_

_She cocked her head appraisingly._

_‘No? Many of your kind make a habit of underestimating women.’_

_He glanced away, softly petting Threepio’s hair._

_‘Not me. I don’t hold with the old laws. My mother is the strongest, most resilient person I have ever known. Not only does she cook and clean and sew and sing as all women can, but she can do any man’s job just as well. Women’s hearts beat as strongly as men’s do. Anyone who believes otherwise is a fool.’_

_Unseen to Anakin, she smiled._

_‘I’m impressed. You are truly enlightened, despite your young age. The Princess would be pleased to hear such sentiment.’_

_The way she said his name sent his pulse racing, like she savoured every syllable._

_‘With respect, madam, I am nineteen years of age, and does not that make a man? As for the Princess, were I ever lucky enough to hold counsel with her, I would tell her to dispose of that old fool she confides in as councillor. His views are outdated, and she would do well to replace him as soon as possible. Also, the trade deal with the Neimoidians is ill-founded. They are known swindlers, and not honest folk to do business with.’_

_She stared at him, pretty dark eyes wide in wonder._

_‘My goodness, you really are a man full of surprises, Anakin Skywalker. I didn’t know knights had a view for politics.’_

_‘They generally do not, but I grew up around rogues and cheats, so I can spot them a mile off.’_

_‘I will be sure to inform the Princess of your observations when I next see her.’_

_He cast a dubious look at her clothes, and her sharp eyes missed nothing._

_‘You doubt that I will hold counsel with her?’_

_‘Forgive my impertinence, but from your attire, I would suspect you more of a milkmaid than a lady’s maid.’_

_‘That is unfortunate, for I am neither.’_

_She removed her cap, revealing a mass of glossy brown curls that tumbled over her shoulders, strewn with priceless jewels._

_Anakin blinked, feeling the colour drain from his face as he fell to one knee._

_‘Your highness, I- how can I ever apologise-’_

_A slender, soft hand reached under his chin to pull his eyes back to hers._

_‘Rise, Anakin. You have nothing to fear from me. Now, please tell me more about my council. I wish to hear your opinion on every member.’_

_He frowned slightly._

_‘But why- I mean- with due respect, your highness, I’m just a knight. Why do you care about my views?’_

_‘Because you are the first person to come to this castle in recent memory who says what you mean, and means what you say. It is most refreshing.’_

_She smiled, and it snatched the breath from his throat._

_‘Yes. I have a feeling we are going to become firm friends, Anakin.’_

When he’d stumbled across her in the palace stables, she’d been wearing a plain dress, and her long hair had been tucked under a cap as she brushed his horse’s mane. But it didn’t matter if she was wearing a potato sack or the contents of a dragon’s cave of treasures. It was _her_ that was captivating- her voice, her laugh, her smile. Her wit and kindness and wisdom as she cared for the animals and spoke to him with no hidden agenda, no ulterior motive. She was exquisite, and he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his nineteen years of life.

The road that followed had not been easy. Even now, he still felt he wasn’t truly respected by his own people. They all knew the origins of their King, just like the scandalously covered up past of ‘Sir’ Solo. Though it galled him to share any similarities with that fool, he couldn’t deny the parallels.

His son’s strange affinity for playacting as a groomsman had also undoubtedly come from his mother. Luke thought his father was ignorant of the fact that he spent long hours in the stables with Artoo. It was probably something he should have discouraged a long time ago, but Anakin could not fault his son for something he was guilty of doing in the solitude of the evening, when his wife was still busy with the council. Here, he was not the King with the fearsome reputation, nor the famed ‘hero-with-no-fear’, not even a husband or a father.

He was just Anakin.

Sometimes, he felt no different than that scared, insecure boy from Tatooine.

‘You are deep in thought, my young apprentice.’

Somehow, he’d missed Obi-Wan’s approach- a testament to his distracted state.

‘I am neither your apprentice anymore, nor so young these days.’

Despite his nonchalant words, Anakin turned around with a broad smile.

‘Master. It is good to see you.’

They embraced warmly, and Obi-Wan leaned against a stall as he watched Anakin.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you, Obi-Wan?’

‘I had a visit from your son today.’

Anakin stiffened, his hand caught in Threepio’s hair.

‘He seemed in low spirits. Unusual for this time of year. He does love Christmas so much, after all.’

Anakin despised how with a mere gaze, Obi-Wan could make him feel thirteen years old again, chided for fighting with another trainee or for not properly polishing his armour.

‘He informed me that he was standing down from the order of the knights. He wouldn’t give me any particulars, but I believe I know what happened.’

‘So, you’re here to criticize me. I should have known.’

The frown lines on his forehead-carved almost exclusively by Anakin over the years- creased.

‘Not to criticize you, Anakin; you know me better than to think that approach will work. I just want to understand why you’ve done this.’

‘I’m the King. I don’t need to explain myself.’

The words were undeniably childish, and Anakin didn’t dare look up at his former master. His cheeks burned as he ducked down and pretended to check Threepio’s hooves.

‘Maybe not to me, no. But Padmé will certainly want to know why her son is so morose on Christmas Eve.’

Disapproval laced his voice, and Anakin felt the familiar pang of guilt as he disappointed not only his master, but his wife.

Slowly, Anakin uncoiled, meeting Obi-Wan’s steady gaze. 

‘No doubt Luke thinks I’m being unfair, and you probably agree. But I am doing this for him.’

He almost threw down the brush, frustration and fear etched over his face.

‘In many ways, Luke is…nothing like me. He always sees the best in people, like his mother. He’s kind, and brave, and _good._ Yet in many others, we are exactly the same, and it worries me- he’s stubborn, reckless, with no idea of his own responsibilities. I sense his attachment to his men, and I fear nothing good will come of it. That is why I have ordered him to leave. He has other, more important duties to attend to.’

‘Can he not do both?’

Anakin shot him a look.

‘You never raised children, Obi-Wan. You don’t _understand_. I have to make decisions that no one is happy about, but will turn out to be the best for everyone’s sakes-’

Obi-Wan raised an incredulous eyebrow.

‘Never raised children? Need I remind you that from the moment you were my apprentice up until your knighthood, you were in my care. Even now, not a day goes by when I don’t have your best interests at heart. You are as good as my son.’

Anakin winced.

‘You are right, master. I apologise. You’re the closest thing I have to a father. I understand that, now that I am one-’

‘And now you must understand how I felt every time you insisted on fulfilling one of your hare-brained schemes, Anakin. You really ran almost wild for years, and sent me grey before my time too. _“Stubborn, reckless, no idea of his own responsibilities”_? It’s poetic, really.’

Anakin scowled petulantly, and Obi-Wan smiled. It was more of a pout than the glower he’d no doubt intended. To Obi-Wan, he would always resemble that seven-year-old he’d taken under his wing in the distant sandy dunes of Tatooine- a truly godforsaken corner of the world, even he had to admit. Anakin had been an absolutely exasperating child, but Obi-Wan loved him unconditionally. He still did.

He tried to convey all this with his eyes- Anakin never did well with heart to hearts, after all- but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded.

‘That was _different. We_ were different. You didn’t choose me, Obi-Wan. You got stuck with me, and you did the best you could, and I’m grateful, but it’s not the _same_. Neither of us were born into this world. I was a knight, and I will never truly be a King. Luke, though he seems to be doing his best to prove everything to the contrary, is a _Prince.’_

_More than that- he is my **son.**_

Anakin’s voice was soft as he laid bare his secret.

‘I never want him to feel… the way I have. The way I still do, sometimes.’

_Vulnerable._

‘I’ve already had one of my children ruined by marriage, Obi-Wan. I will not allow it to happen again.’

Obi-Wan shook his head.

‘You’ve allowed your insecurities to get the better of you, Anakin. You care too much for the opinions of others. Is it the twin’s reputation you are scared for, or your own?’

Anakin’s eyes narrowed, all traces of fragility having retreated back under the mask.

‘Reputation has nothing to do with it. It’s about _pride._ The blacksmith has no skills other than forging swords and armour. He would be next to useless in a battle, and he has no redeeming qualities. Am I expected to rejoice at his station in life, his inferiority, his _mediocrity,_ when he is the one who is supposed to protect my daughter from harm?’

He laughed derisively.

‘I would sooner place my bets on Dooku. The whole thing is laughable, yet I was overruled by my wife and daughter, and now she resides in a sham of a marriage. But I refuse to see the same thing happen to my only son.’

Obi-Wan watched him sadly.

‘Pride will be your downfall, my young padawan. As I used to tell you.’

He turned to leave; shoulders heavy with a load Anakin had placed there. Pausing, he turned back to his shamefaced friend.

‘At least be honest with yourself, Anakin; is it really Luke’s wellbeing that you are most concerned for? Or are you just afraid to let him go as you’ve had to let go of Leia?’

Anakin watched his master go, and remained there until long into the night after the clocks had struck twelve and the bells began to chime.

It was now Christmas Day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan has zero empathy for Anakin- he had to put up with his shit for over two decades-so now he’s just content to sit back and watch the whole spectacle unfold while sipping the medieval equivalent of a nice Earl Grey. 
> 
> Will Shakespeare owes a whole lot to Ezra Bridger, that’s all I have to say on that. 
> 
> Let me know if you have any writing prompts, and thank you for reading 🥰 
> 
> Please leave a comment with your thoughts, they are very motivating and lovely to read! 
> 
> Come scream about Hayden Christensen with me on [Tumblr](https://couronnedesfleurs.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fleurscouronne) where I also post writing updates.


	3. The End: I Built My Dreams Around You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas Day, and Luke has a choice to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the last part, in which I continue my trope of Skybridger being unbearably soft and gifting each other jewellery because apparently this is the extent of my writing skills! 
> 
> This is the last chance to spot the thing™ (two people already have and they know who they are so shoutout to them 💕) 
> 
> (Also: pls click the youtube links when the time comes. I promise they make the scene so much better).

_Nine._

‘It is beautiful, my love. What is the stone?’

Ezra cradled the necklace that Luke had gifted him, his other hand gliding through Luke’s fringe. They’d spent a leisurely Christmas morning together in bed, Ezra having snuck in at dawn so they could be together before Luke had to join his family.

‘Emerald. It has a lot of different meanings: growth, reflection, peace, balance, healing, fertility. But it’s also known as the stone of successful love.’

Luke toyed with the chain around Ezra’s neck, looking up at him from underneath his lashes. He’d hoped Ezra would understand the message that Luke had been trying to convey, and was gauging his reaction. But Ezra didn’t notice; instead, he wore a mild frown on his face as he turned the jewel between his fingertips.

‘I love it. Thank you.’

He gave Luke an absentminded kiss on the forehead.

Ezra wasn’t himself today. He seemed…distracted, and his agitation had only grown more prominent as the sun rose. Luke could feel the tense sheet of his muscles under his fingers.

Deciding to try and lighten the mood, he rolled onto Ezra’s stomach, capturing his attention from wherever it had drifted off to.

‘And where is _my_ present, Knight Bridger? Though admittedly, I don’t think you can give me a better one than last year.’

Luke smiled softly, remembering how Ezra had organised a search party to find the missing horses after the battle. He had personally delivered Artoo to him, the stallion greatly put out at having been left behind at all. It had taken a few days before she stopped nickering at Luke every time he entered the stables.

‘I did set the bar rather high.’

In one swift motion Ezra slid out of the blankets, reaching for his clothes.

‘Wait, where are you going?’ Luke said hurriedly, scrambling around for his own clothes before Ezra pushed him gently back onto the bed.

‘Do not trouble yourself, dearest. Get some more rest. It won’t be long before you must meet with your family.’

‘But you don’t need to leave so soon!’

Luke gazed at him imploringly, heart beating frantically.

‘Stay. Will you not at least give me my present first?’

Something flickered in Ezra’s eyes, and he faltered.

‘Y-you will receive my present later. For now, I must leave you.’

He bent down to kiss Luke, who was momentarily taken aback by the force of it. But this did not settle Luke’s fears; there was something fateful and melancholy in its desperation. He felt Ezra’s pulse beating as erratically as his, and opened his mouth to ask-

He was gone before Luke could blink; the door swinging shut gently in his wake.

Luke frowned, looking at the strewn sheets and the remains of the cloth he had wrapped Ezra’s present in. He couldn’t help but feel like an abandoned concubine, some kind of dirty secret- a whore. It was their anniversary, as well as Christmas Day. What did Ezra have to do that was so important he couldn’t stay with Luke?

Maybe he was getting cold feet.

Maybe he was intimidated by the Lords and Ladies that had descended on the halls of the castle yesterday evening, batting their eyelashes and posturing whenever Luke came near.

Or maybe he was bored of _Luke._

Luke had gifted him his mother’s necklace. The one he was only supposed to give to his chosen partner. Of course, Ezra did not know this, but the symbolism of the stone should not have been lost on him. Did Ezra not realise the extent of his feelings? Even worse- did he not reciprocate them anymore?

Had Luke ruined everything?

He pulled on his clothes half-heartedly, the usual merriment and cheer he felt totally extinguished by what had just occurred.

It didn’t feel like Christmas Day at all.

* * *

The splendour of the great hall raised his spirits slightly after he had sufficiently roused himself to greet his family, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka.

The walls were bedecked in magnificent shades of crimson, forest green, and gold. Fresh holly festooned the eaves, and mistletoe hung innocently from the minstrel’s gallery. Artfully placed candles harmonised with the roaring fireplace to cast a warm, snug glow around the cavernous room.

The crowning glory, however, was the enormous tree that soared up to the heavens, covered in spangly golden stars and moons. It was so huge that everyone in the castle had been able to place an individual ornament on the branches. Even his father had been persuaded to take part, though of course he’d had to show off by placing a star in the very uppermost branch using his magic, earning an eye roll from Ahsoka.

Anakin clearly felt guilty about what had transpired between him and his son, and was taking great pains to make up for it. He had the musicians play all the twin’s favourite Christmas fugues over a sumptuous meal of at least four courses, during which he didn’t glare daggers at Han once. He didn’t even make his customary complaint when Ahsoka announced the yearly readings for them all.

It wasn’t that Anakin didn’t believe in Ahsoka’s abilities. He greatly respected _her,_ but he hated the very idea of fate. His stubborn, free-spirited nature rallied against the prospect of divine interference. Guidance was all well and good, but he was determined that only he would be in charge of his own destiny.

Unbeknownst to Anakin, his son was currently thinking along similar lines.

Not wanting to know exactly what Leia and Ahsoka were giggling about at the other end of the table, cards shielded so no one else could see, he turned to find his father looking at him sadly. The lively, festive music seemed to fade into the background.

‘Ahsoka has not done your reading, which means you’ve already visited her recently. I am sorry that you felt you couldn’t come to me or your mother for guidance.’

Luke stared back at him in shock, before quickly averting his eyes to his plate.

‘I-it was not something I wished to trouble you with, father. It was only a trivial matter.’

Anakin did not seem convinced.

‘I know that you have been unhappy since our conversation. Your mother-’

He broke off momentarily, sneaking a glance at his wife who was currently twirling around the raised dais of the great hall floor with Obi-Wan. Anakin would never admit it, but his master was sprightly for his age. Padmé, of course, was eternally graceful.

‘She was very angry with me when she found out. Said I shouldn’t be placing so much pressure on you. That you’re still young, and that marriage is not the only way to form friendships with our neighbours. That you have other goals for your life, and I should respect them, even if I don’t understand them.’

Luke felt a swell of love for his mother. She always knew what to say.

‘While, of course, it would make me very happy if you would forge alliances with some of the guests tonight… I would not wish for you to be miserable.’

Luke’s eyes snapped back to the King.

‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying that you should listen to your mother. She will always be wiser than I.’

‘Kind of you to say, dear husband, and very true,’ Padmé teased, having finally worn-out Obi-Wan as she approached the table from behind, wrapping her arms around Anakin’s neck and leaning in for a chaste kiss.

Luke watched them, half in shock that his father had relented, half in longing. He wanted that with Ezra. He wanted them to be free and happy, but now he wasn’t even sure if Ezra wanted him anymore.

His morbid thoughts were interrupted by the Queen excitedly announcing the singing of the carols. This was Luke’s favourite part of the day. His mother had a beautiful, sonorous voice like a siren, and though she sang often enough in the privacy of her chambers with her family, he was proud to see the wide eyes of the servants as they secretly watched in awe. The twins joined in at times, often mixing up the lyrics as they had done when they were children to see who could make the most ridiculous lines, much to Ahsoka’s amusement. In an unprecedented move, the Queen convinced the King to sing a duet with her. The smile quickly fell from Anakin’s face as Padmé tugged him up to the dais with boundless enthusiasm. Luke had never before seen his father so shy, and Leia and Ahsoka grinned wickedly as they watched their father and former master squirm.

To everyone’s surprise, and perhaps disappointment, the King could in fact hold a tune. Not only that- he was actually rather good at it. His countermelody interwove with his wife’s soprano line with ease and elegance, and the rapturous applause that followed was well merited.

Obi-Wan patted him on the shoulder.

‘You never cease to be full of surprises, my young padawan.’

Anakin was so flustered he didn’t complain about the nickname, or object when Leia flung her arms around her father, exclaiming ‘You were so good, I can’t even make fun of you for it!’

After this, the final act of the morning was the exchanging of presents. Luke was bestowed with an array of thoughtful, extravagant gifts- though he had to suppress a snort at Han’s present, a jar of high-quality armour polish. His roguish brother-in-law winked at him in solidarity, and Luke didn’t miss his father’s flared nostrils when he saw the gift.

It was during the chaos of string and cloth and abundant gifts that Padmé had the opportunity for a quiet word with her son.

‘You seem a little melancholy today, my love.’

He began to deny it, but knew it was useless as soon as he saw her raised eyebrow, uncannily like Leia.

‘You hide it well, but I’m your mother. It’s my job to know these things.’

She cupped his cheek, her eyes full of worry.

‘Will you not confide in me? I will only tell your father if you wish me to.’

She glanced at her husband, currently squabbling with Ahsoka over who had gifted the best presents.

‘You know how your father gets these ideas, and fixates on them. He means well, but…’

‘It’s okay, mother. He explained to me what happened. I have you to thank for it.’

‘You don’t need to thank me, Luke, but you don’t seem very relieved about it. I hoped it would ease your burden to know that we don’t expect you to go through with this.’

Had it been the previous day, Luke would have been ecstatic. Now, he couldn’t help feeling like it was all too late. Ezra was restless and distant. He hadn’t even remembered it was their anniversary today.

Perhaps his father had been right after all. He had grown too attached, and was now paying the price for his foolishness.

‘I don’t think father is entirely wrong, mother. I do need to start taking my responsibilities more seriously. Maybe-’

He glanced around quickly to check everyone else was out of earshot.

‘Maybe he was right to invite our allies. It’s my duty to ensure that Coruscant stays protected, so I should endeavour to build friendships- if not more.’

Padmé looked even more worried than before.

‘Are you sure about this, Luke? I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll end up regretting. That is not a choice to be made lightly, my love. It should be for you and you only.’

He shot her a bright smile, hoping it wasn’t as brittle as his heart felt in that moment.

‘I’m sure. The time has come for me to dedicate myself to my kingdom. I’ll always be proud of my knights, but they don’t need me anymore.’

_He never did._

* * *

_Ten._

Before Luke knew it, the sun was beginning to wane and the great hall had once again been transformed. After a lavish banquet-which Luke had spent the entire duration of shifting uncomfortably from the many eyes fixed curiously on him-, the tables had been pushed back to create a large dance space, apart from the royal table at the head of the hall. A hush fell over the excited guests as the Queen rose, putting the angel on top of the tree to shame in a glittering dress of spun gold and scarlet.

‘Our dear friends, now that we are well feasted and ready for the evening’s festivities to begin, we hope you will all join in for this merry celebration ball. But first, we must all remember the trials and hardships of last Christmas. Many men who were with us then bravely laid down their lives to protect not only this realm, but to uphold the principles of justice and peace all over the land, which we will unfailingly continue to strive for. We would not be here without them. Their sacrifices will not be in vain, and we will remember them.’

She paused, raising her glass to the ceiling. The softly-spoken Queen made an impressive orator, and not for the first time Ezra recognised her quiet strength as one of Luke’s best qualities.

‘Of course, we are honoured to be joined by so many special guests this year, who have travelled from far and wide to celebrate Christmas with us. We hope you enjoy the festivities tonight. Now, without further ado- let the dancing commence.’

Lords and ladies leapt to their feet as the band burst into song, and the polished floor was soon full of twirling skirts and light feet.

Luke knew he was expected to join them, but at that particular moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. Sat between his sister and mother, he was scanning the dancefloor for a shock of dark hair and blue eyes.

‘Don’t worry, Luke. Ezra will be here. He’d hardly leave you to those vultures,’ Leia said lowly, turning her head away from their parents. She inclined her head at the visiting royals whose beady eyes were fixed greedily on the pair, even as they waltzed around the hall.

‘But he should _already_ be here _._ He’s meant to be on patrol as head knight! If father realises he abandoned his duties, he’ll-’

‘My Prince. You look well.’

The twins looked up in thinly veiled dislike as Lord Palpatine appeared out of nowhere. He had a nasty habit, like a pox or plague, of showing up where he was least wanted at the most inconvenient moments.

Luke could hardly return the compliment. Palpatine seemed even more wrinkled than normal, and his watery eyes glimmered maliciously in the candlelight.

Reluctantly, Luke stuck out his hand for Palpatine to grasp, withholding a shudder at the cold, clammy skin.

Ever since Leia had married Han, Palpatine acted as if she wasn’t there. She was no longer useful to him as a pawn or political playing piece, and she had always treated him contemptuously regardless. True to habit, she turned to Han and began a deliberately loud conversation, leaving Luke to Palpatine’s mercies.

‘Forgive an old man his prying, but I have been reliably informed that you are seeking a suitor. A most wise decision, your highness, and in light of it, there are many people I should like to introduce you to tonight-’

‘I’m sorry to hear you’ve been misinformed, my Lord. I am merely looking to create alliances with other lands through friendship and mutual benefaction.’

Luke shifted. Palpatine still hadn’t let go of his hand. He leaned uncomfortably close, so that no one else could hear.

‘Be that as it may, I hope you will make responsible choices tonight, my Prince. You must think of not only yourself, but of your kingdom. You must not follow your sister’s example. She has ruined herself by marrying that idiot blacksmith, but I still hold such high hopes for you, my boy. As does your father.’

His eyes narrowed meanly, knowing he’s hit a nerve, and Luke wrenched himself out of his grip. 

‘Thank you for your most generous counsel, Lord Palpatine. I shall bear that in mind.’

He turned away, seething, and caught the sympathetic eye of his mother who was now frowning at Palpatine. She had never been a supporter of the Lord like his father was. She embraced him as Palpatine approached the King.

‘Whatever he said to you, don’t listen. You are a _Prince,_ and superior to him in every way. Remember that.’

Leia nudged him in the side, subtly nodding her head at the approaching gentleman. Padmé stiffened.

‘Who, pray tell, is _that?’_

‘That is King Tarkin of Eriadu, a necessary guest I’m afraid. He is the most powerful person in the room-’ Padmé began. Luke had heard the name before, usually mentioned in conjunction with some horrific battle, but never seen the man in person.

‘-and he knows it,’ Leia muttered to Luke.

‘Better pleased with himself than what he sees,’ Padmé agreed mildly, though her eyes were hard. Tarkin was imposing and cold-looking, wearing an expression of distaste as he made his way towards the royal table.

Despite the splendour of the hall and the decorations, Luke knew that King Tarkin was probably used to even grander affairs. Eriadu was the richest land, after all. But they could afford to be- they taxed their people criminal amounts, and invested in weapons and men from overseas to fight their battles for them. His parents were more occupied with running a peaceful and prosperous land than they were with showing off to neighbouring kingdoms, and their distribution of wealth was the reason why they hadn’t been engaged in as many wars or uprisings. He was fiercely proud of their legacy, and it angered him to see the King turn his nose up at their celebration.

But the most chilling thing was the way the man’s eyes bored into Luke, like he was another country to conquer.

‘Ah, your Majesty! Your timing is impeccable. I was just saying to the King that you would be seeking his son’s hand in m- for a dance this evening.’

Tarkin now stood in front of Luke, giving the briefest of bows to the King and Queen.

‘I would be greatly honoured to dance with you, your highness.’

His voice was smooth, smug with the knowledge that he would not be denied, as he held out his hand.

Padmé’s grip on Luke’s shoulder tightened. Leia looked horrified, and Han similarly scandalised.

‘But he’s anci-’

Anakin shot Leia a look down the table, silencing her immediately. He, too, didn’t look happy about it.

Luke knew that there was no viable excuse he or his father could dream up that would allow him to escape. He was the heir and he was young and physically healthy; dancing was expected of him, no matter the desirability of the partner. It would be a grave insult to turn down someone as illustrious as King Tarkin; so grave, it could possibly start another war.

Before anyone could object, Luke stood. He didn’t want to disgrace his kingdom- or his family.

‘I accept, your Majesty.’

One dance.

That was all.

He could do this.

Feeling like he was on the way to the executioner’s block, he kept his face impassive as Tarkin led him to the middle of the floor. People whispered and ogled as they passed, which was hardly surprising, as they were easily the two most powerful bachelors in the room- though the age difference was far from desirable.

They took their positions, Luke meeting Tarkin’s steely gaze head on. The opening [drumbeat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1NgHonWNE0&list=RDl1NgHonWNE0&start_radio=1&ab_channel=adam28xx) of the song fuelled Luke with adrenaline and reminded him of his own power. This wasn’t his death; this was a war, a battle not dissimilar from the many he had successfully fought, and although Ezra was not by his side, he would win. He was no pawn or plaything. He was the Prince.

Thankfully, this dance wasn’t one that required much hand contact. Eye contact, however, was another matter entirely. Tarkin had barely taken his gaze off Luke for a moment, and his skin crawled as they circled each other predatorily, clapping at the appropriate moments with more violence than was necessary. He found himself envious of the other couples dancing alongside them, the countless ladies and lords that had travelled here with the aim of ensnaring him. He had dreaded having to endure their company, but now wished he could exchange an evening of dancing with every single one of them for this one dance with Tarkin. ‘Dance’ was a loose term under the circumstances, for it felt more like a war ritual; a constant ebbing and flowing as Tarkin advanced and Luke nimbly evaded, not allowing the man into his personal space to start a conversation. He could see the anger rising in the King’s face, and felt a grim satisfaction.

Good. He was not a prize to be won, and Tarkin was mistaken if he thought so.

Luke’s luck could only last so long. The chorus thundered, and the couples took each other’s hands for a closer sequence of steps. Tarkin saw his hesitation, and pounced.

‘Prince Luke. Permit me to tell you how ravishing you look. Your portrait was impressive enough, but it truly could not do you justice. You are a vision.’

Luke felt his cheeks flare as Tarkin’s grip tightened on his hand.

‘…I hadn’t permitted you, but-’

‘You would fit perfectly at my side. I’ve heard much about you, and your misguided philanthropy regarding the poor of the neighbouring kingdoms. It is most unbecoming for someone of your breeding, as are your quests with your band of motley knights. I’m surprised your parents allow you to behave in that way; though I suppose that is what happens when you mix royal blood with common muck. Nevertheless, you should stop this fighting nonsense and devote yourself to more… _homely_ pursuits.’

His face was almost skeletal in the firelight, sharp cheekbones highlighting the unpleasant smile and dead eyes that made Luke’s hair stand on end.

‘And what exactly do you mean by that?’ he said lowly, enraged by the man’s scandalous insult towards his parents.

‘Don’t play coy. Activities which would be more…suitable for you than wielding a heavy sword. You look like one strong breeze would knock you over, my darling.’ He laughed nastily. 

Luke was suddenly glad that Ezra was missing. If he’d overheard any of this conversation, he would certainly have been executed for regicide. As it was, Luke felt like he was drifting into danger of that himself.

‘As you’re no doubt aware, I own three castles,’ King Tarkin boasted, twirling Luke at a speed that made him feel slightly sick. ‘You’ll be in charge of running all of them, when you marry me.’

The room still spinning slightly, Luke found his balance and evaded the hand that came to trap him again.

‘ _When_ I marry you? You’re awfully confident.’

Tarkin stepped forward, too close for comfort, all pretence of dancing gone. The surrounding couples carried on spinning, getting a front row seat to the showdown.

‘Why wouldn’t I be? I’m rich and honourable, and you’re young and handsome. Our power would be uncontested. We are ideally matched.’

There were so many things wrong with that statement, Luke didn’t know where to start. Tarkin interpreted his silence as acquiescence.

‘I see you are coming to your senses. Rest assured, you will want for nothing. You are making a wise choice to ally yourself with me, your highness.’

Luke felt another pair of eyes on him and turned his head to meet Palpatine’s slimy gaze, intent on the pair. He suddenly knew without a doubt that the Lord was behind this entire scheme- Tarkin was being played by his very own underling.

‘I don’t know if you are aware, King Tarkin, but I will be running my own kingdom. I’m far too busy to run another castle, let alone three of yours-’

‘You’re mistaken. Coruscant will be mine once we are wed, and our lands will merge in order for m- for _us_ to rule over them as one.’ He stepped ever closer, grey eyes demanding total submission. ‘You _will_ learn your place in all of this, your highness. For everyone’s sake.’

This confirmed Luke’s suspicions. Palpatine had always wanted his father to conquer more kingdoms, to expand their control, which of course had never happened. If Luke married Tarkin, the deed was as good as done. Their empire would be frighteningly unbeatable, and it would only be a matter of time before they tried to conquer everywhere else. Luke shuddered.

Ezra would never dream of giving Luke orders like that. He worried about him every time they went into battle, but he would never take away his agency or attempt to control him. They were a partnership, not a Master and servant, and Luke would rather slit his own throat than sign his life away to someone as repugnant as King Tarkin.

‘I have no intention of doing so. You seem to have a very poor understanding of me, your majesty; I’m neither docile nor a simpleton. I see right through you, and Coruscant is one kingdom you shall only control over my dead body.’

For a second, Tarkin looked taken aback. Then a sinister smile spread slowly over his face.

‘That’s a shame. I didn’t want to resort to threats to get what I want, but it seems you’ve left me no choice. Once I’ve beaten some much-needed manners into you, you’ll be a good little homemaker, just like your slut of a sister after she whored herself out to that blacksmith- _ARGH!’_

He doubled over in agony, clutching his stomach where Luke had just shoved the hilt of his sword with violent alacrity.

‘ _Oh._ Sorry about that- I’ve clearly spent too much time learning to defend myself and not enough time following _homely_ pursuits,’ Luke smiled sweetly, making a show of bowing to Tarkin as the song came to a close. ‘The pleasure was all mine, your Majesty. Oh, and one more thing-’

Luke leaned in to hiss into the man’s ear, one hand resting lightly on his throat as a silent promise.

‘Never insult my family again, unless you want another war on your hands. How’s _that_ for a threat?’

Leaving Tarkin hunched in pain, Luke whirled around, fully intent on leaving the hall-

‘Ezra?’

* * *

_Eleven._

He was not in his knight’s armour as he should have been. Instead, he was wearing exquisite clothes of midnight blue and silver brocade, looking every inch a handsome noble. If Luke hadn’t been trembling with fury from his encounter with Tarkin, he would have kissed him right then and there.

‘Your highness. Will you do me the honour of dancing with me?’

Luke gaped at him, barely able to process the words- his mind was still catching up with the outfit. Over the splutters of outrage as the palace servants recognised Ezra despite his fine attire, the tinkling of harp strings sounded very [familiar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KUJP0OwjRE&list=RD-KUJP0OwjRE&start_radio=1&ab_channel=BeedleTheBardcore). 

‘W-what?’

Ezra looked desperately to the right, where the King had risen from his seat, eyes glued to the pair. Leia and Han gave them a subtle thumbs up while Tarkin hobbled out of the hall. 

‘I mean… yes. Of course.’

He took Ezra’s hand, and together they walked to the centre of the floor. The rest of the guests seemed utterly perplexed, first by the crown Prince injuring the King of Eriadu, then by the stranger that had turned up and swept the Prince off his feet. Who was he? An Earl? A Lord? A forgotten Prince of some unknown land?

Ignoring the murmurings, Luke placed his hand against Ezra’s as the soft harp gave way to jubilant drummers and pipers, the musicians looking like they were having immense fun. 

‘This…this is our song!’

They circled each other, palm to palm in the soft glowing candlelight, capes swirling. Luke felt like he must be having a dream or some kind of fit. He was dancing with Ezra- Ezra in _noble’s clothes_ , no less- in front of his family and all the guests, to his favourite song on his favourite day of the year.

‘Of course. Only the best for my Prince.’

They clapped and stomped to the beat, weaving around the other guests who had decided to join in the dancing too. Luke could see the guards attempting to get through the throngs of people- to apprehend him or Ezra, he wasn’t sure- but they kept getting mysteriously thwarted as though by an invisible forcefield. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ahsoka’s gaze, and she winked at him.

An enormous grin lit up Luke’s face.

‘You planned this whole thing, didn’t you?!’

Luke realised that Ezra, by some miracle, not stepped on his foot yet. 

‘And…you can _dance_ now? _’_

‘You don’t have to sound so surprised! I asked Obi-Wan to give me some emergency lessons; he’s seen more than his fair share of courtly dances. Ahsoka was doubled over at me the entire time, of course.’

Luke laughed.

‘ _Of course._ She will never let you live this down.’

‘That, and the fact that I used the last of my savings to buy these clothes and pay off the minstrels-’

‘-Ezra!’

‘That’s what she said. It was worth it though.’

‘So that’s where you’ve been all day? Practising with Obi-Wan?’

Ezra shifted.

‘Not exactly.’

His eyes were unbearably soft as he gazed at Luke. 

‘I’m sorry I asked you to elope. It was selfish, and you deserve better. Someone who will stand proudly at your side through everything, not a foolish coward who runs at the first sign of danger. Though speaking of danger, your father is looking mightily terrifying right now-’

Luke gently guided Ezra’s face back to his.

‘Relax. He can’t commit murder, not in front of all these people.’

‘That’s really not as reassuring as you think it is.’

‘He’ll have to get past me first. Besides, I think even he would agree that you’re a much more agreeable marriage partner than Tarkin.’

Luke shuddered, and Ezra’s eyes grew wide in disgust.

‘You don’t mean… he didn’t- but he’s _ancient!’_

‘Oh, it wasn’t my parent’s doing. It was all Palpatine. Father told me this morning that he doesn’t expect me to choose a partner tonight; though, it seems you’ve taken the choice out of my hands.’

If possible, Ezra’s eyes widened even further.

‘Are- are you sure about this, Luke?’

Luke gestured around them- at the beautiful music, the couples who looked to actually be enjoying themselves and not trying to get Luke’s attention for once, at Ezra’s hand in his where it should be. 

‘You did all this for me. I’m not sure if you are exceptionally brave or exceptionally foolish, but… you are certainly exceptional. I want everyone to know that you are mine, and I am yours.’

_Consequences be damned._

‘I could get used to you saying that,’ Ezra sighed, placing a hand around Luke’s waist- much closer than was considered polite. From the waves of anger Luke felt emanating from the royal table, his father had unfortunately taken notice. 

‘I’m glad to hear it. Only this morning I thought you were going to leave me to the mercies of the lords and ladies and King Tarkin-’

Ezra’s hand tightened slightly against his waist.

‘Never. I would lay down my life before I let that happen.’

‘Yes, I believe you’ve exhibited that,’ Luke pressed a soft kiss to his forehead ‘and in front of all those people too… quite a statement. I never knew you had a flair for the dramatic. Perhaps there is hope for you and my father to become kindred spirits after all.’

Ezra blanched.

‘ _Please_ don’t talk about your father while I’m trying to confess eternal love, it’s off-putting-’

_‘Silence.’_

The King’s voice reverberated around the room. The music stopped abruptly. The minstrels looked five seconds away from fleeing, and the guests were already edging out of the door.

‘You will all leave us, except _you.’_

Anakin pointed at Ezra with a thunderous glare, and the guards finally made their way through the crowd to seize him.

‘ _Now.’_

The King’s voice was dangerously soft, and everyone- including Palpatine- fled the hall.

‘No!’

Luke stepped in front of Ezra, drawing his sword and meeting the guard’s gazes, silently challenging them to take him on. They wouldn’t dare harm the Prince.

‘You will not touch him.’

With a meaningful glance at the pair of them, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka closed the doors to the great hall with a clang. Luke held his breath as his father approached them slowly, the elegance of a gazelle crossed with the danger of a panther. Ezra gulped loudly, and Luke squeezed his hand. He would not let go. Whatever happened.

It was time to pay the piper.

‘Would you care to explain what exactly is going on here, Luke? Or is this another of your ‘trivial matters?’

Luke didn’t need to look at his face to know the King was truly, truly furious.

‘This- this is Ezra, father.’

His father’s eyes grew wide with recognition, then rage.

‘The brigand who didn’t turn up to his duties this evening. You seem eager for punishment, knight Bridger.’

He rounded on Luke again.

‘When I said you should listen to your mother, I didn’t mean you should run off with a knight like she did!’

‘I don’t _care_ that he’s a knight! I don’t want a lord, or a prince, or a damned King! I just want _Ezra_ -!’

‘ _NO!_ You are young and foolish like I was, and love has blinded you to the truth. Not only that, you injured King Tarkin in front of the _entire congregation-_ ’

‘He insulted you and Leia! He never cared about me or Coruscant, he just wanted the power. It was all Palpatine’s doing, _there’s_ your precious truth! And you have a nerve to call me blind. As always, you only see what you want to see, and to hell with everyone else!’ Luke burst out.

‘ _Enough.’_

The Queen stepped into the fray, her beautiful face stony and serious. Han looked like he wanted to say something, but Leia held him back grimly; she didn’t want her husband in the firing line yet again. This was not their battle to fight.

Padmé came to stand beside her husband, looking sadly between him and her son.

‘There are many things that I wish had been done differently. I wish that you had trusted us enough to tell us, Luke. I wish that we had been more approachable so that you felt you could trust us. I wish that I had addressed your insecurities before they grew out of control.’

She directed the last to her husband, who spluttered. Padmé raised a hand.

‘It is not our place to pass judgement on this boy. Need I remind you that you were once a knight, and I was a Princess-’

‘Exactly, and need I remind _you_ that I had to go through trials in order to win your hand, least of which was to battle a ferocious dragon, I didn’t just _waltz in_ -’

‘You’re getting caught up in the semantics, Ani, and there’s no need to remind me of the dragon, considering it was me who ended up saving _you_ from it-’

Her husband’s cheeks pinkened.

‘-My point is, we were in exactly the same situation as Luke and Ezra-’

‘Oh, so _you’re_ on first name terms with the brat now? Tell me, am I the only person in this castle who has been ignorant of this whole encounter? Have you all been laughing behind my back at the idiot King who doesn’t even know of his own son’s affairs-’

Padmé raised an eyebrow as the remaining colour in Ezra’s cheeks drained.

‘You are getting far too dramatic in your mature years, my love. I certainly did not know about this, and a long conversation between us all is sorely needed; but you must choose wisely. Which do you value more? Our son’s honour, or his happiness?’

She looked at Luke proudly, and he followed her gaze. If he could ignore the bastardous knight and focus solely on his son, he looked…content. Though he was trembling slightly from adrenaline and fear, his hand was gripped tightly around the knight’s with an aching familiarity. Not even a sword could sever that bond. 

He realised that even if he wished to, he could not tear them apart. He valued his relationship with his son too much. He _loved_ Luke too much to do that to him.

‘Have faith in our boy, Ani. He has a kind, sensible head on his shoulders, and he will be a fine ruler one day. Don’t push him away because of misplaced pride- you will only hurt your own.’ 

He turned to his wife, aware of tears in his eyes.

‘Wouldn’t you rather your children were happy?’ Padmé said sternly. ‘You almost lost your daughter. Do _not_ lose your son.’

‘I-’

His shoulders slumped, defeated.

‘…Yes.’

After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds, Anakin faced his son. It was with extreme nervousness that Luke met his father’s eyes, unsure what he’d find there.

‘My son.’

‘Father.’

‘You have kept this… _alliance_ secret for many months. You have deceived me and your mother. You have lied to me.’

Luke exhaled shakily.

‘Yet…’

His father brought his hands up to cup his face.

‘How can I be angry, seeing you so happy? While we must talk, _and believe me, we will-_ ’ he shot Ezra a murderous glance over Luke’s shoulder, and Ezra gulped again, ‘I will not stand in your way. As long as you continue to serve the kingdom; I cannot stop you.’

Relief flooded Luke, filling him with a lightness that freed his spirit and left his heart adrift.

‘I will serve the kingdom as faithfully as I serve you and mother, father.’

Anakin considered him, the anger subsiding in his eyes.

‘I cannot pretend to understand, but I will try. I love you, my son. If he has been lucky enough to earn your love in return, then… so be it.’

Before he could stop himself, Luke flung his arms around Anakin like he had done as a child.

‘Thank you, father,’ he murmured, feeling the King’s tense muscles loosen before hugging him back just as tightly.

He then embraced his mother, hoping that she too would forgive him for his deception. She kissed the top of his head.

‘I understand why you felt sworn to secrecy, my love, but let this be an end to the affair. Your father is right, we have much to discuss. But now is the time for celebration, not conversation.’

She squeezed him once more, tenderly, then released him to Ezra with a small smile.

‘I’m trusting you with my son, knight Bridger. Please do not let him down.’

‘On my life, I will not. It’s the day of our anniversary, and I fully intend to make an honest man of your son, your Majesty.’

Ezra pulled a ring from his pocket. It looked like he had forged it himself, with the help of a certain blacksmith.

Han looked proud, while Anakin seemed moments away from killing his first son in law before moving on to the soon-to-be second.

Ezra dropped to one knee, and took Luke’s hand, gently sliding the ring onto his wedding finger with precision. Luke lifted it up to the light to admire it. It was a plain steel band, respectable and solid, with his mother’s glittering emerald welded onto the head.

‘Surprise?’ Ezra said weakly, looking uncertain. ‘It was a beautiful necklace, but I thought it would suit you better. The meaning was everything I wanted to give you: growth, reflection, peace, balance, healing, fertility, successful love. Also, I couldn’t afford a diamond on a knight’s salary, so… this was all I had.’

For a moment, Luke didn’t trust himself to speak.

‘It’s… it’s perfect. I adore it.’

He pulled Ezra up from the ground by his cloak and kissed him, uncaring of what his family would think. 

Padmé quietly allowed Obi-Wan and Ahsoka to let the guests back in, with the exception of Palpatine and Tarkin- they would be dealt with later. The minstrels, who seemed happy not to have been fired for their part in Ezra’s scheme, enthusiastically picked up where they had left off, and the guests began to waltz again.

‘They look well together, do they not, my love?’ Padmé said dreamily, her head resting against Anakin’s shoulder. ‘A perfect Christmas romance.’

The King grudgingly had to agree. Luke seemed so happy in the arms of the knight as they moved fluidly around the hall.

The song hit its last crescendo, and Ezra lifted Luke up, whirling him around and around. Still giddy from the weight of the band around his finger, Luke grinned elatedly at his fiancé.

‘I can’t believe this is really happening. It’s a miracle.’

‘No,’ Ezra said, kissing the ring where it sat snugly on his finger, ‘ _you’re_ the miracle. You were so brave when you spoke to your father. It is _your_ words that have done this, not my actions.’

‘Even more miraculous is Obi-Wan’s dance lessons. You owe him a huge debt, Ezra.’

‘I was never _that_ bad,’ Ezra protested, ‘he had a good foundation to build from!’

His eyes glittered mischievously.

‘That’s not the only thing he’s been helping me with.’

A fresh sprig of mistletoe that had been hanging a few metres away now dangled over their heads expectantly. Luke felt his father’s bewilderment from the other side of the hall as he sensed a magic presence that he did not recognise.

‘Really?’

Luke looked accusingly at a sheepish Ezra.

‘He already knows I love you, which is the most dangerous secret I keep. He would find out I have magic soon enough- better to rip the bandage off in one go, don’t you think?’

‘You are utterly ridiculous, and I love you too. Come here.’

Ezra smiled.

‘With pleasure.’

And to the riotous applause of (almost) the entire court, they finally kissed without fear.

* * *

_Twelve._

‘Olympia, my love, could you please cease that racket?’

‘That’s what you get for gifting a youngling a musical instrument, Han.’

The scene was far from the picturesque regality that many people might imagine. Presents littered the floor along with bits of string and fabric that had been used as wrapping. The tree in the family’s personal chambers was slightly lopsided, thanks to the toddler who had decided to try and climb it. Leia now held the squirming child firmly in her lap while she banged a tiny toy drum with endless enthusiasm, eyes narrowed at her sheepish husband.

Despite this, it was a domestic, warm scene to behold.

Padmé sat cross legged on the carpet holding Rowan, the youngest Amidala-Skywalker-Solo, while Obi-Wan magically swirled a starry mobile above his head to wide eyes and cooing noises.

From his position by the window, Luke watched as Ezra sat sandwiched between his father and Ahsoka on the loveseat, all deep in an animated discussion. Surprisingly, his father and Ezra had found they had things in common, and frequently trained and went riding together. It had taken a while, and many awkward attempts, but they now shared a mutual respect and friendship. Han was dismayed to find that his plan had backfired, and Ezra had taken the coveted spot of Anakin’s favourite son-in-law. There was no competition, however, when it came to the grandchildren. Anakin was a doting grandfather to Olympia and Rowan, as well as their own new-born child, Caterina. Amazingly, she remained sound asleep through the chaos of the early Christmas morning, cradled in Ezra’s arms as Anakin looked fondly over the sleeping babe.

Heart full, Luke turned his attention back to the window for a moment, watching the soft flurries skip past the glass. The snowman he had made with his young niece and nephew yesterday was still standing, albeit haphazardly, with a wonky crown on his head. He should probably retrieve it at some point, but it could wait for today.

Every Christmas since Ezra had entered his life, it had snowed.

Snow had brought Ezra to Coruscant in the first place, freezing and hungry and alone. Now, it lapped playfully at the windows as he sat cosy and warm and loved with his extended family.

Maybe there was such a thing as the fate that Ahsoka so eagerly put her trust in.

Maybe the flakes of blinding white were enchanted with their own kind of magic, one that no mortal could ever hope to master.

Mouthing a soft thank you to the falling flecks, he left the window to re-join his family, which was now complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sad this fic is over but I hope you enjoyed it, I would love to hear your thoughts! If you got through all of that in one go, have a gold star and a hot chocolate on me ✨
> 
> Okay but if Luke and Ezra dancing to medieval Fairytale of New York isn’t everything you’ve ever wanted then idek what to say to you. 
> 
> It’s canon that Anakin has a good singing voice, there’s a tumblr post about it somewhere so it must be true. 
> 
> I completely fell in love with this verse whilst writing and will probably continue it at some point. There are so many scenes I want to explore now; Padmé vs the dragon, Ezra vs Ventress, Ezra vs Obi-Wan’s dance lessons etc. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, stay safe and have a wonderful Christmas 🎄☃️ (if you don’t celebrate Christmas, I hope you have a wonderful day also 💖)
> 
> Come scream about Hayden Christensen with me on [Tumblr](https://couronnedesfleurs.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fleurscouronne) where I also post writing updates.


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